


Alone Together

by KINGOFMODS



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KINGOFMODS/pseuds/KINGOFMODS
Summary: It’s 1989 and Vince and Howard are best friends in high school who take the same bus home. After having Vince over for the first time, Howard decides to keep a journal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So… I have only ever published one other fic before… and this is my first fic for the Mighty Boosh.  
> This fic is AU because I know Vince and Howard actually met early in their life, whereas in this fic they meet freshman year and are currently in junior year. This is also more of a (not to sound basic but) slice of life/coming of age fic with drama and things like that, although there are still a few surreal boosh elements. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!
> 
> My tumblr is https://kingofmods.tumblr.com/

 

 

 

How he managed to shut the front door and lock it in such an aloof manner was an enormous feat in itself.    
Taking a much-needed breath of air, Howard couldn’t help but giggle to himself upon exhaling; a broad smile plaguing his features, hands shaking with the sheer adrenaline of it all.    
  
_  
Did that really, really just happen?  
_  
  
Although his body merely shivered in shock, his chest was buzzing hysterically, organs practically twisting around like a dying animal inside him.    
  
His next instinct snapped at him like a whistle signaling the beginning of a race and he was off, barreling upstairs.    
  
He just thought maybe if he was fast enough it wouldn’t have to be till Monday.   
He couldn’t wait that long.    
  
Slipping and sliding up the creaky hardwood steps, he stumbled more than once before making it to his room, frantically locking the door behind him.   
  
Despite initially planning on sprinting towards the window, he hesitated an instant and decided to shut the lights off before willing himself to part the curtains gently, cracking them open only slightly.  

Down below, Vince faced away. His shadow bounced alongside him on the path, illuminated by the stale, yellow street lamp as he walked down the pavement. Although Mrs. Moon was very opposed to the idea of a young boy like Vince walking at night all by himself, he insisted that he didn’t need a drive home.    
  
He didn’t realize that he’d stopped blinking until Vince vanished in the murky silhouette of the next block. That’s when he shut the curtains, feeling restless.    
  
What now?  
  
What was there to do after a day like that? After what just happened?    
  
He couldn’t just go to bed, he had to tell someone.   
  
…No way in hell would he ever talk to his parents, and talking to his pet cactus got depressing really fast.     
  
Leroy?   
  
No. Imagine how dumb it would sound if he rang him up to talk about Vince for an hour.   
  
In the blue light of his dark room, he squinted at the corner where his backpack lay and remembered his poetry journal.    
  
He had fantasized about starting logs like a true explorer, but this wasn’t necessarily the type of exploration he had in mind. He pictured writing about world breaking phenomenon or strange cryptic species he could one day discover. Not his everyday life and conflicting feelings about his best friend, who he can’t stop staring at.    
  
He dug through the contents of the bag, retrieving the journal and a pen with it before sitting at his desk, flipping on his bedside lamp to shed minimal light. Facing a new blank page, he only stared pen heavy in his hand.   
  
Where did it even start? What started this?    
  
Perhaps he could talk about the bus?   
  
Yeah, that was a good start.  
  
The bus.

_FRIDAY, November 24, 1989  
  
Vince and I both ride the same bus in the afternoon because we get off in the same neighborhood.    
  
Eventually, more and more kids peel off into their respective streets, and then it’s just us walking home together. That’s kind of how we first got to talking, him and I.  
   
Earlier on Monday this week, we were talking on the ride home.  
  
  
_

“Doesn’t your head hurt from looking down like that?”   
  
The bus rocked uncomfortably from side to side, skittering along the bumpy back roads that lead to the next stop.    
  
“What do you mean?” Vince asked, tearing his eyes away from the paper in his lap for a mere moment before continuing his picture.   
  
Howard observed that Vince seemed to switch off on what hand he used to doodle. That day, drawing with his left hand, he sketched up another one of his oddly deformed creatures.    
  
The gangly, tall demon he crafted had a long speech bubble practically dripping out of its mouth. Inside it said ‘ Hey Lary’ and that was it.   
  
If drawn by someone else, the image would have been quite off-putting, but instead, it seemed almost endearing. Definitely impressive for something whipped up on an unsteady surface in a more than an obnoxious environment of teens wailing at each other at ungodly volumes.   
  
“Who is Larry?”  Howard asked.   
  
“Dunno really,” Vince hummed simply. “ His name is easy to spell though.”   
Howard took another glance at the paper.   
  
“You do know that Larry usually has two R’s in it instead of one, yeah?”  
   
Vince’s face flared up, eyes slightly widening in realization.    
  
“Well, this Lary has one R, his parents wanted him to be special, alright?” A pink tint spread across his cheeks and he closed the notebook diffidently.

_We both knew he wasn’t the best with grammar and things of that sort, but we never really talked about it. He certainly didn’t enjoy me bringing it up, but for Christ’s sake he is 16 and doesn’t know what a verb is.  
  
  
_

“Vince, you know I wouldn’t judge you. I can help with your spelling-“   
  
“Keep your voice down!” he hissed, clutching onto Howard’s shoulder, and shrinking into the corner of the bus seat.   
  
Sure, Vince cared about his image a lot, but it wasn’t necessarily going to be a surprise to anyone that he was a bit of an airhead.    
  
“It’s an important life skill to have, Vince. You may have made it this far, but it’s going to be hard to get a job if you can’t manage to fill out an application correctly.”    
   
Vince cringed at the suggestion of him ever applying for a stable job. He kept on a sour face, one that clearly implied that Howard should shut up already before Matthew and the assholes who bother them daily catch on.     
  
With a sigh, Howard lowered his volume for Vince’s sake and continued in a whisper.   
“Sometime soon we can sit down and I can give you a couple of pointers on places you should put commas and things like that. It’s real easy and we can do it in private, no one has to know. ”    
  
“Private? Like where? Your house?”   
  
Those words lingered in the air a bit longer than normal, and the two just sat staring at one another for a moment.   
Vince’s expression slowly took on a new form as he processed his own words, and Howard didn’t know what to make of the almost cat-like grin slinking its way across his face.  

 “Can I come over today?”

The question was innocent enough. It just had never had been directed at him before.    
  
Sure he considered Vince to be his best friend, but never in his life had he invited a friend to his house- he never had any friends to invite over in the first place.   
The only guests he had ever encountered were his parent’s friends who come over for drinks, even then Howard was always instructed to keep out of the way and lock himself in his room.   
   
He wasn’t sure if it was too soon. If it was, Vince would realize that when he was alone with him, he didn’t really care for him after all and would never talk to him again.   
  
When did it get so hot? He was sweating like a maniac.  

“T-Today?” he asked, just for the sake of saying something before the silence dragged on too long.   
  
Vince nodded, eager grin still plastered across his face.    
  
Howard forced a crooked smile of his own and tried not to look him directly in the eye.    
  
“I don’t know about today Vince- I- I would have to ask my parents first. You would need to ask your dad too.”    
  
Vince snorted, his toothy grin faded to a small smile, eyes still searching Howard’s face a moment longer before laying back into the corner. His head leaned against the window.     
  
“Yeah, I guess…” he trailed off watching trees pass by behind the glass in blurs.   
There was a moment of silence.    
  
“What about on Friday?” Howard suddenly heard himself ask, and Vince’s eyes flickered back over to him.   
  
“…Yeah, I’m free,” he said, his smile returning to him before he let out a soft yawn and closed his eyes, still pressed against the window.     
  
And just like that, the conversation was over.    
  
Somehow Vince fell asleep in that bumpy death trap of a vehicle and Howard was left on his own with the overwhelming reality that in a few days. Vince wouldn’t just walk him home, he would step inside his house and it would be just them, no distractions, no annoying classmates no bullies.   
  
Just one on one time, alone together and Howard had to be an entertaining host.   
Hopefully, he wouldn’t lose his best friend in the process.  
  
 

_To make matters worse, we drove over a pothole, and Vince ended up falling against my arm. He didn’t wake up, he just rested his head against my shoulder. Matthew and his dick friends noticed, and of course, wouldn’t let us get off the bus without making a show of us like they always do.  
  
  
_

“Don’t forget to hold your girlfriend’s hand as you go down the steps, Howard!” they cackled. “ You wouldn’t want her to fall on that pretty kisser of hers!”   
  
The bus doors shut behind them and Matthew and his friends hung out the windows tossing crumpled papers at them before the noisy shuttle skitted off down the street.    
   
“Damn right I’ve got a pretty kisser-I’ll kill them.” Vince would growl. It was common for him to react that way after being confronted by Matthew and his gang.   
   
Howard was too lost in his own head to muster up some comforting words, and so Vince ranted the whole walk.   
  
“See you tomorrow, Howard, and more importantly on Friday! Don’t forget to ask!” he shouted over his shoulder as he started down the block.  Howard waved him off, and when the door clicked shut, he sank onto the floor wondering what he just roped himself into.    
_  
  
I spent all week making sure this wasn’t going to go to shit._

_I asked Leroy what he does when people come over but he was no help. He said he just pops in a VHS and ‘chills’. I made a schedule of things to do including a disclaimer warning that our cat Mildred sheds a lot so there could be a lot of hair everywhere. I cleaned the whole house twice and used some savings to buy sweets like Rainbow Drops, Flumps along with Capri Suns and Yoo-Hood since that’s what Vince always gets from the vending machines at school. I’m more of a pretzel stick kind of man myself so I bought those too, but that’s not the point.  
Today came and all was usual, Matthew’s friend Robert stuck his leg out and made Vince stumble while walking down the aisle of the bus. We got off at our stop and began the walk to my house.    
  
  
_

“Roberts just jealous that his girlfriend has been talkin’ to me all week,” Vince huffed, twisting one of the bangles that hung around his wrist.   
  
Howard half nodded in agreement, completely elsewhere. He ran through his mental checklist for the 87th time that day.  Had he put out the coasters? God he hoped his mom remembered to put out the snacks-Mildred better not have snuck into his room and shed all over his duvet again, that took ages to shake off.    
  
“Howard.”   
  
“Hm?”   
  
“We’re here.”   
  
Howard blinked and suddenly they were standing on his doorstep, Vince waiting patiently for him to unlock the door.   
  
“Right.”    
  
He nabbed the key from his coat pocket, almost dropping it in the process before shakily forcing it into the lock.    
The door crept open and he pushed it aside, allowing Vince to walk in first. He shut it after him, heart ringing in his ears as he tried to read the other’s expression.  

Vince stood there, scanning everything before dropping his backpack against the carpet with a thud, and strutting over to the couch. He flopped down onto the cushions, his glittery jacket shining amongst the brown leather as he threw his feet up onto the coffee table.    
  
“Got anything to eat? I’m starving.”   
  
Howard swallowed the lump in his throat and shot a quick glance into the kitchen, where his mother thankfully laid out everything for the two of them. He brought out the bowl of Rainbow Bites and Vince sat up right eyes glowing.    
  
“Cheers, Howard,” he said thankfully, stuffing enough in his mouth to make his cheeks puff out like a fish. Howard could practically smell the cavities forming yet he still scurried back into the kitchen to fetch two Yoo-Hoos.      
  
Vince hummed in delight and snatched the bottle after Howard unscrewed the cap for him. He took one swig and half was already drained.    
  


_He ate everything, including the Flumps, and he drank my Yoo-Hoo in under 10 minutes. Sometimes I wonder if his father even feeds him at all, or if he’s ever had heart palpitations. He was still hungry and all that was left were pretzels and Capri sun. At first, I was opposed to eating in my room, but he already scooped up the snacks and started up the stairs, completely ruining my mental schedule. I grabbed our bags and followed after him.  
  
  
_

Once again Howard held the door open for Vince, who wandered in. He stood in the center of the room, twisting around, taking in everything as Howard set down their things pretending not to watch.    
  
“Your carpet is kind of stiff,” he noted after sprawling out on the floor, lying down on his stomach.   
  
“Well, carpets aren’t made for laying down. Are they, Vince?” Howard replied, tugging open the zip of his backpack to fetch some paper.   
  
“Not usually,” he replied with a mouth full of pretzel sticks. ” But what about sleepovers? ”   
Howard’s hands tensed, freezing mid-motion.

He wasn’t ready to admit that this was the first time anyone had come over to his house, let alone mention he has never had or been to a sleep over in his life.    
  
Just act confident. For the love of God act don’t let him know.   
  
“Well…” he began, “ it’s a real treat when anyone sleeps over, I’m a real sleep-over-animal,” he bluffed crossing his arms. “ Nobody sleeps on the floor here at La Casa Moon, no sir, at La Casa moon we sleep like kings.”   
  
“What do you mean?” Vince asked staring up at him with enchantment.   
  
“ Well-behaved guests, such as yourself, get to sleep on: The air mattress” he informed in a relaxed manner, comfortable in his lie.   
  
“What’s that? An imaginary bed or something?” Vince sneered, munching down more pretzels.   
Howard raised an eyebrow. Apparently, this was a new concept to Vince.  “It's… like a bouncy castle, but you sleep on it.”   
  
“No way! I’ve gotta try that out!”   
  
Howard let out a breezy laugh, but Vince had this look on his face. It was no less excited and almost persistent.   
Pleading in a way.   
  
“What are you implying?”   
  
“I’m implying why don’t I sleep over?”

Howard’s facade cracked, his insides swirling like the beginnings of a hurricane.  Excuse- he needed an excuse.   
  
“It’s a school night.”   
  
“So?”   
  
“So… you haven’t asked your dad.”   
  
Vince scoffed, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “ _So_?”   
  
God.   
  
If he weren’t so anxious he would have been concerned.    
  
“You haven’t brought anything to wear tomorrow.”   
  
That made Vince stop and think. Howard knew he wouldn’t dare be caught dead borrowing clothes from him, not even to sleep in.   
  
“You’re right. Maybe another time then,” he decided, sitting upright and sticking two pretzel sticks under his upper lip like vampire fangs.   
  
With a sigh of relief, Howard returned to his bag, mentally patting himself on the back.   
He carefully ripped some pages from his science notebook and grabbed two neatly sharpened pencils he had been saving.   
  
“ Well then, are you ready to do some spelling?” He hummed merrily turning back to Vince who was too preoccupied with the cat in his lap to respond.   
  
The door must have been open a crack because Mildred was there, brushing herself against Vince’s palm, purring.   
  
“ Oh dear- that’s Mildred, I wouldn’t if I were you, Vince, her hair will get all over everything.” Mildred squinted at Howard.    
  
There was a delay before Vince responded, “Mildred? Oh no worries, we’re just having a chat. She thinks that the name, Angelica suits her better.”   
  
Howard eyed the two of them, only slightly taken aback by the odd reply. Vince more than once had claimed that he can understand animals, whatever that meant.    
He’s said odder things, but he was pretty insistent on that one.   
  
“Angelica?”   
  
“Mhm,” Vince nodded before leaning his face down near Mildred’s, listening to what Howard perceived as silence. He giggled to himself, his face dipping out of view then looking back up at Howard, who stood smothered in confusion.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Oh nothing, Angelica’s just talking about you.”   
  
Of course, Howard wouldn’t have believed it for a second, but already being on edge he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of uneasiness.   
  
“What did she say?”   
  
“She says you dance around in your little pants to strange music when no one’s looking,” Vince snorted trying to force a smile down.   
  
Howard’s face burned with embarrassment.   
  
“Who told you that?!” he babbled, his voice cracking in defense.    
  
“I already told you, Angelica did!”    
  
Sure he may have done it with Mildred in the room once, but he didn’t think anything of it.   
She’s a cat for Christ’s sake, how was he supposed to know that she would broadcast all his embarrassing secrets to his best mate?!   
  
“Mhm, well your chat is over, we’ve got some spelling to do.” He sat down next to him, glaring at the traitor on his lap.   
  
“Yeah, whatever,” Vince snickered, smoothing down ‘Angelica’s’ wild fur.  
  


_I’m pretty sure we discovered Vince had Dyslexia. He had trouble with Qs and Ps, along with Bs and Ds. On top of that, getting him to focus through a lecture was impossible. Everything I tried to explain would go from one ear out the other, and he kept asking questions about irrelevant things like, ‘Do you think they hand draw the lines on notebook paper?’ or ‘ What if a new letter was invented for the “sh” sound and it looked like a backward f’?._

_We finally made some progress when I tried a different approach. We wrote this sort of rhyme to help keep track of simple rules in language. After reciting it a couple of times, we kept learning new concepts and adding more._

_We kind of got carried away with the last part.  
Somehow we both knew what the other person was thinking._

_It was weird.  
  
  
_

“Q and U act as two, oo hoo hoo, nothing ends with V or U, Larry says “Hi,” no double I’s, I before e except after c, you and me stopping exes from following S’s slash scratch bam -crashed my car, bam, crash, slash, scratch! Better walk home. Bam crash HOO!”  They chanted in unison, scaring off Mildred in the process and even managing to get a disapproving knock on the door from Mrs. Moon, asking them to keep their voices down.   
  
Howard hadn’t realized how close the two of them were sitting together till he turned his attention back to Vince, who was right there, glass doll eyes staring back at him.   
  
He scooted back instinctively and Vince did the same, the two of them breathless.   
It was almost unsettling how natural that felt, how effortless and fluid the words flowed out as if they had been rehearsing that moment for months.   
It just happened. Out of nowhere, like finding money on the ground, but better.   
  
Twisting his dirty blonde hair around one finger, Vince let out a short disbelieving laugh.   
  
“What do you call that?”   
  
“Not quite sure… to be honest I think we just made it up.”   
  
Vince nodded, and the two of them sat in silence until he spoke again.   
  
” We should do that more.”

Howard wasn’t sure if that was even possible. Could a moment like that be replicated? God, he hoped so. Whatever it was that just happened, it seemed to keep Vince happy and entertained.

“Yeah, we should.”  
  


_I tried to continue our lesson, but we inevitably got off topic and ended up drinking Capri Suns and just talking. I put on some records and quickly learned that orchestral music puts Vince to sleep, just as much as Jazz makes him dizzy. All the while his curious manner made it hard to keep ‘chill.’_

_He kept prodding around in my drawers. I had to pull him away and put things back in order. It almost makes me wonder if he’s ever been to anyone’s house either.  
I’m not saying I know more about hanging out than Vince does, but he’s got no manners._

_He’s not unmanageable, though, he’s just a bit childish.  
  
_

_The night rolled around, and he kept digging through my shit.  
  
 _

Sitting on his bed, Howard sifted through his crate of records to see what else could play after Rubber Soul finished. Neither of them were really big Beatles fans, but it was accessible and something they could both agree on.    

“Sam Marowitz sound good?” He slipped the vinyl out of its protective cover and looked it over for scratches.  

“This is heavy… What do you keep in here?” Vince’s muffled voice asked, followed by something shifting against the carpet.  

On first glance, the room seemed empty besides himself. That was until Vince crawled out from under the bed, a large, rattling box in his hands.

Howard messily leaped to his feet and snatched the box by its sides, ripping it out of Vince’s hold.   
“Can’t I leave you alone for 2 seconds without you touchin’ everything?”    
  
“Alright, easy.” Vince lifted his hands in defense, pointing at the box and raising an eyebrow. “A secret stash, eh?” he teased.    
  
“A secret what?”  Howard squawked, obliviously.   
  
“Y’know, a secret stash, Like a place to keep snacks and… pictures if you're into that sort of thing,” Vince elaborated, sneakily sliding his fingers against the brim of the box before swiftly popping open a corner, and thrusting his hand inside.    
  
Howard tried to yank it away, but it was too late, Vince having knicked something.    
Upon opening his hand and seeing what prize he had reeled in, he cackled uncontrollably, dropping to his knees.    
  
“You were trying to keep me from this?” Vince choked holding up a Lego.    
  
“Yes! No one needs to know I own these!” Howard rebuked, dropping the box at his side and apprehending the Lego from Vince’s evil grasp.    
Vince simply glided over to the box and ripped the top off,  digging around in the rest of its contents.    
  
“Do you mind?” Howard snapped, getting down next to him and tugging the box away.   
  
“Oh come on, Howard, there’s nothing to be ashamed of! I still got all my toys from when I was a kid.”   
  
“Well, these are different. These are special.”    
  
Vince ignored him, scooting closer and scooping out more of the Legos, along with some action figures.   
  
“What are you doing!?” Howard blurted, looking about ready to rip his hair out at the root.    
  
“Relax! We can have some fun with this stuff.”    
  
Vince continued to pour the box of its contents, and instead of protesting, Howard forced himself to take a deep breath and roll with the punches. He picked up a transformer and dished one out to Vince, who accepted it with a smile.

_Vince was kind of shocked when he realized I don’t own any Barbies.  
  
He kept asking, ‘Not one?’ and proceeded to explain how he stole a couple from girls on the playground when they weren’t looking. He brought them home in his lunch bag.    
Somehow he thought everyone did that.   
  
We built some forts out of Legos, and it ended up turning into an all out war. Robots against… whatever stuffed animals Vince could get his hands on. That and a couple of Zoids.    
  
  
_

Air crafts zoomed overhead and Lego bombs dropped and shattered over the war zone.    
  
Although he sent out troops, Howard stayed safe at home base with his wife, who doubled as a Queen, whom he fashioned out of notebook paper and colored pencils.   
Vince responded to this by drawing a wife of his own, who oddly just looked like himself.   
It was no matter; he was focused on combat more than anything.   
He frolicked in the war zone, taking out solider after solider, riding atop a Zoid and crushing his opponents with mighty dinosaur strength. He voiced everyone, imitating the last dying screams of Howard’s forces.  
   
This allowed the perfect distraction to devise a plan.   
  
He was going to snatch Vince’s most valuable possession: Mildred, or in this case, Princess Angelica, his daughter who was ‘guarding’ Vince’s tower (in actuality, she was passed out and blocking the entrance).   
  
How a man could have sex with a female version of himself and produce a cat for a daughter Howard had no idea, but as mentioned earlier, he was just rolling with the punches.   
  
Vince, being too busy crashing a plane into the middle of the battlefield, didn’t realize he left an opening.    
Howard seized Mildred, waking her from her deep slumber and plopping her behind his tower.   
Vince gasped in horror dropping everything and clutching onto his chest, taking it in the most personal way possible.    
  
“First you steal my land, now my daughter?”   
  
“The heart wants what it wants, Vince. It’s all strategy, Princess Mildred is mine now,” Howard said smugly.   
  
“Her name is Angelica, you jerk off,”   
  
“Easy now, little man, don’t get too worked up over this, I’ll be good to her.”   
  
“Really? Well, how’s this for strategy?” Vince leaned over and plucked Howard’s wife right out of her tower.    
Howard gushed in protest “But that’s not fair! I planned out my move!”   
  
“Oh yeah? Well- well so did I! The heart wants what it wants, you said so yourself,” Vince taunted nastily, giving the paper doll a loud smacking kiss on her paper face.    
  
That was enough to send Howard lunging forward. Grappling onto Vince, he pushed him down, grabbing for the paper doll just out of his reach.   
  
“Give her back!”   
  
“Never!” Vince barked back with equal force, stretching out his arm as far as he could whilst trying to kick at him.    
  
They rolled from side to side, knocking over their forts and scaring Mildred under the bed.  
   
“You’ll never have her!” Vince would scream as he swiftly maneuvered the paper doll from hand to hand, trying to crawl off and escape.   
But that was when he realized he was cornered.   
Pinned up against the door with Howard between his legs and no escape, He tucked his hands under his ass and wouldn’t budge.     
  
“Hand her over, Vince,” Howard demanded sternly trying to rip Vince’s arms out from behind his back.   
  
“No,” Vince said firmly, rooted to his spot.    
  
Howard dug against the under side of Vince’s thighs, causing him to squirm and free his hands, but the doll wasn’t in his grasp.      
  
“Really?” Howard sighed frustrated. Vince nodded with a small devilish smile.   
  
“Get up.”   
  
“No.”   
  
“I said move, or else.”   
  
“Or else what? You’ll grope me?”    
  
Without saying another word, Howard snaked his hands to Vince’s sides and started tickling.   
Vince squealed with laughter, instantly doubling over and trying to shield himself.    
  
Finally, there was an opening.  Howard beamed with victory, but as he went to go collect his wife, Vince’s hand moved faster than he did, and suddenly she was gone again.   
  
Howard gawked as Vince crumpled her up and stuffed her down his shirt with a smirk.    
Blind with rage and loss, Howard advanced.   
  
As if on cue, Rubber Soul came to an end, and suddenly it was just silence when he pushed Vince back down against the carpet. He went to grab at the end of his shirt when there was a stomping coming down the hallway.   
  
He snapped his head from the door back to Vince who was frozen under him, hearteningly short of breath, the only thing moving being his chest rising and falling as he panted.   
  
Big, unblinking eyes stared back up at him as if he had gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t.    
His face was still hot from laughter, or at least he thought it was from the laughter.

Suddenly, everything felt amiss.

Flushed, Howard instinctively jerked away, getting off of him.   
Vince, just like earlier, did the same still taking deep breaths and stealing glances at Howard as the footsteps neared the door.

_It was my mother telling us to stop making so much noise and to come down for dinner.  
I don’t really know what happened. I was really into the game because otherwise too much physical contact makes me ill.  _

_I couldn’t shake feeling off after that._

_We went downstairs and on first glance, my mum announced ‘ I didn’t know you were having a lady over.’  
I corrected her but Vince didn’t seem to care, he just wanted to eat.    
We all sat at the table and sure enough, Vince scarfed down his plate easy and asked for seconds.  My dad took a liking to him for that and as everyone dropped their dishes into the sink, he told Vince he is welcome to come back anytime. My mom offered him a ride home, but he declined.    
My parents went back to their room, and I went up and fetched his things.  _

_We walked out onto the porch and chatted for a few seconds longer.  
  
  
_

It was cold out, the sky more purple than black, and the moon more white than gray.   
  
“ I had a great time,” he admitted. “We should do this again.”   
  
“We definitely should,” Howard agreed, not exactly making eye contact. It was a lot of trouble setting up everything and having nothing go how he planned, but he didn’t regret any of it.   
“ I guess I’ll see you Monday then yeah?” His words fogged up in the air like smoke.  
    
“Yes sir, Monday,”  Howard assured with a nod, “ You remember the song right? ”  
   
The two of them slipped right back into their little rhyme they had practiced earlier, even managing to add a little more to the end again. Adding bits about Legos and queens, they rounded it off in unison, loud enough to make a neighbor turn on his bedroom light and a small flock of birds erupt from a treetop across the street.    
  
Vince cast his eyes away with a close-lipped smile, unconsciously fidgeting with his hair before looking back up at him.    
  
“…Well see ya then,”  

Something in Howard’s chest stuttered.

“…See ya then,” he croaked, extending out a hand to shake, having seen his dad do this with his guests before.    
  
Amused, Vince shook his head and threw his arms around him, squeezing tight.    
  
He stumbled back, taken by surprise at the sudden contact.   
A fluttery feeling rocketed in his stomach as he awkwardly leaned down into Vince’s hold, gently wrapping his arms around him, breathing in the scent of his strawberry perfume.    
  
The hug was painfully short, ending with Vince pulling away, the ghost of his warmth clinging to Howard’s clothes.    
After a wave goodbye, Vince turned on his heel, only taking a few steps before stopping thoughtfully and turning back around.     
  
Howard raised an eyebrow as he reproached him.   
  
“I almost forgot about this.”  
   
He fished the crumpled paper doll out from his shirt and plopped it into Howard’s hand.    
With one last winning smile, he swiftly stood up a bit taller and planted a kiss on Howard’s cheek.    
  
With that, he sauntered off.   
  
   

_I’ve never been kissed before._

_It felt nice,  
  
  
_ Howard wrote, his hand coming to a pause for the first time since he started the entry.   
He reread the sentence a couple of times before scratching it out, feeling his face heat up.

_~~It felt nice,~~ _

_  
God, what’s wrong with me?  
  
  
_ After that, he unraveled the paper doll and slid it in place to mark where he left off. He shut the journal snappily, unable to look at the page any longer.    
  
His glazed, tired eyes checked the time and saw that it was 1:30 AM.   
Shuffling his feet through the remains of their toy battle, he moved his record crate off his bed and kicked off his shoes, crawling under the covers fully dressed.

He dreamt of being trapped in a tower.     
  
Vince rode over on a tall Zoid, that lifted him up to the window.    
He climbed into the room dressed in glinting armor that sounded when he moved, face marked up and dirty from the battle outside.    
  
With light feet, he crept over to the bed where Howard was asleep yet somehow still conscious.    
  
Vince slid his fingertips down his cheek; it all felt so  _real._     
   
He bent down, long hair brushing Howard’s face as he leaned in, eyes closed and kissed him.  

Howard hurtled himself awake, panting and sweating. The clock on his bedside table read four in the morning.   
  
He glanced at the foot of his head and Mildred was curled up at his feet, shedding everywhere and staring back at him.    
He dropped himself back down against his pillow and peeled the covers off his chest, raking a hand through sweaty hair.  

‘God, what’s wrong with me?’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick disclaimer: There are some transphobic/homophobic slurs in this chapter in case that makes it harder to read for some of you.  
> I'm currently working on chapter 3 at the moment but school has started up for me again so it may take a while to post, but I assure you will post it as soon as poSSIBLE... I hope you enjoy reading!

_MONDAY, November 27 th, 1989_

_At breakfast, Vince didn’t bring up anything regarding what happened on Friday. I’m not saying he acted completely normal, though. He was cheery as always, but things were kind of awkward._

_It may have been just been me, considering I couldn’t look at him half the time, but how could I? It’s kind of hard to stare someone in the eye after you’ve pictured them as a literal knight in shining armor._

_I tried to get my shit together by lunch._  
We eat on the floor by the bathrooms, and I never noticed how close he sits till today when he was practically glued to my side.  
  
_I felt wrong for thinking anything of it._  
  
_He asked if I was alright and offered to walk me to the nurse’s office since I didn’t eat much._  
_I felt sick but told him I was fine because I probably was and my mind was just playing tricks on me._

_That’s the only other time I see him in the day, before getting on the bus._

_The ride home was hell._

 

Vince had been in the middle of talking about Brian Eno when Matthew cut him off, coming up behind the two and resting his chin against the top of their seat.

“So what’s this about, Howard?”  the annoyance asked, his voice gone smarmy as he held up the poetry journal in one hand.  
  
Howard’s heart nearly imploded in terror and he realized his bag was gone from his side.

Twisting around, he lunged against the seat in a desperate attempt to reclaim the journal, but Matthew leaned back, hiding it at his side. Howard glanced to the seat adjacent to him and saw two of the other assholes, James and Ross digging through his things, scrunching up random papers and tossing them onto the floor.

All of it was probably important assignments and homework, but suddenly none of it mattered as much as the journal that Matthew was leafing through. And with the luck of a certain paper bookmark, he flipped to the most recent page.

 

Something inside Howard died.

He practically climbed over top of the seat to try and snatch the book away, when suddenly the bus came to a hard stop.  
The doors flung open and the driver stomped to the back where they were.

James and Ross emptied out the bag into the middle of the aisle, before dropping it. Matthew quickly tossed the book atop the pile and sat with his hands crossed in his lap, acting innocent.

“What’s going on here?” the driver asked in a gruff voice.

Everyone had gone silent, staring as Howard slumped back down in his chair, babbling like an idiot trying to explain himself.

“They stole my, the-the bag- my backpack- I was just trying to-“

 “Clean this mess up and get off my bus,” the driver snarled before retreating back to the wheel.

Snickering could be heard as he silently stood up to collect his things. He grabbed the journal, stuffing it into the bag first while Vince kneeled down to help with picking up everything else.

They both took the walk of shame to the front, but the driver stopped Vince before he could follow Howard off.

“Not you, idiot,” he scolded before shutting the doors in Howard’s face.

The breeze had picked up considerably as he trudged to their regular stop, just about 3 blocks away from where he got cast out.

Vince was waiting for him when he got there.

“Could you have walked any slower? I’m freezing my tits off,” he complained, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

“No one told you to wait for me, alright? You did that to yourself.”

“Of course I waited for you, I’m not a prick.”

 

_The walk to my house seemed longer, probably because of the cold.  The sun was lower than usual by the time we turned on my street._

_I checked the mailbox, and instead of staying there and waving me off like he always did, Vince walked up to the porch with me._

 

Howard dug in his pocket, pretending to not be confused as Vince leaned against the pillar by the door.

He pulled the key ring out with a jingle and prompting Vince to speak.

 “What makes them think they can do shit like that?”

Howard wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Dunno. I guess we’re just easy targets.”

“Well, I’m sick of it.”

“Yeah well… Not sure what we can do about that,”

“We could get revenge somehow,” Vince suggested with a shrug

“Revenge? Who are you? V for Vendetta?”  He paused.  “It was my bag they rummaged through anyways, yeah? You’re a pacifist, I don’t think you’ve got to worry much right now.”

“What do you mean?” He stood up straight, clearly offended. “They bother me in gym every day! I’ve got to change in the bathroom or else they’ll steal my clothes. I lost a great pair of pants to those jerks. I had to get signed out that day.”

This was news to Howard, who only ever saw them on the bus.

“You’ve actually got a class with them?”

“Yeah, just Matthew and Ross, but they get the job done. I told you on Friday on the walk home, remember? They stole the lock to my locker?” 

He probably brought it up when Howard was zoned out. His skin crawled at the thought of Matthew and Ross harassing Vince without him there to take some of the blows.

“Well… Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Does it matter? They’re dicks. End of story.”

Howard sighed and turned back to the door, pressing the key into the lock. “What kind of revenge were you thinking?”

“We could cover them in breadcrumbs and watch the birds attack them.”

“How about a more realistic plan? Like pouring ketchup in their backpacks at lunch? Maybe crumble up some crisps so the ants eat their homework?”

“Oh, that’s genius.” Vince gazed into the air wistfully, painting the scene in his mind.

 “I try” Howard beamed under the praise before turning the key and popping the door open.

“You’ve got to promise we’ll do it though. No backing out of this.”

“They must’ve gotten on your nerves hard today.”

“Stole one of the pins off my bag,” he admitted. “Plus they messed with my best mate. They’ve got to pay,” he explained. “Promise we’ll do this.”

Howard then extended a hand to Vince. They shook on it without a second thought.

Pulling away first, the regret settled in as he tucked his hand back into his pocket, fingers cold from the loss of sensation.

He almost turned to head inside, but Vince spoke again.

“Hey, Howard.”

“Hm?”

 “I wanted to talk about what happened on Friday.”

“Oh,” was all he could manage in response.

Howard swallowed the thick lump that formed in his throat, sweat somehow taking form on his brow despite the whistling breeze.

“…Can I ask you something?” Vince hesitated, leaning in closer. He kept his voice down to a whisper despite no one being around.

He could smell the fruitiness of his perfume again and felt light headed.  He simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I was wondering…”  Vince brushed his wind whipped fringe out from his eyes, and Howard couldn’t stomach how sincere he looked.  
God knows what Vince was going to say and God knows that Howard was barely able to admit anything to himself, let alone the bloke he’d been having odd thoughts about.

“Could I come over again soon? ...So we can do more of those funny little songs?”

 He wasn’t sure what he was excepting to hear, but it wasn’t that.  
The stiffness in his body slowly vanished, and he blinked a few times.

The songs?

He must have meant the rhyme they had made up.

“Oh,” he repeated, this time his voice less tense. He smiled, thankful to whatever mystical God that saved him from talking about anything truly personal.

“I need some time to run it by my parents and get things set up. When were you thinking?”

Vince gave a grateful smile back. “Next weekend maybe?”

Howard frowned, remembering that his aunt was going to be visiting and taking his room.

“Don’t think so, I got family coming over… What about next Thursday maybe?”

“Would your mom be okay with me coming on a school night?”

“Course,” he replied in a cool manner, not actually sure.  

“Alright,” Vince’s smile grew wider, “next Thursday then.”

Without a hint of a warning, he planted another rushed kiss on Howard’s cheek before turning and walking off.

It happened in the frame of a second, like a bullet grazing his face.

 A very nice… soft bullet that mangled his heart rather than shot him dead.

He gave a weak wave goodbye before stepping inside, distracted and elsewhere.

 

 

_TO DO LIST:_

_-Calm down._

_-Talk to mum._

_-Find some more decent records at the shop._

_-Shake off duvet. Again._

_-Buy more snacks. A lot of snacks._

 

 

 

                                                                                 ***

Tuesday came and went without much taking place.  
Howard (with a lot of begging) got permission to have Vince over again in the week to come, and the two talked about their revenge plan during lunch.  
They decided that it was too soon, and they would have to hold off, making it less obvious.

They got off the bus and Vince walked Howard to his door again, giving him another kiss before he left.  
  
The same happened the day after that, and the day after that and all it did was pull Howard deeper into strange thought.

At night he laid in bed and listened to Rubber Soul again, and somehow it sounded nicer than it always had as he drifted asleep to the tune of Michelle.

 

Friday came and when saying goodbye, he thoughtlessly leaned down so Vince wouldn’t have to stand up taller to reach him. He earned a laugh and could have sworn he saw Vince’s cheeks turn pink before giving him a peck.

“Got anything to eat?” he quipped, peeking behind him into the living room.

“I think I’ve got some yogurt,” Howard said.

Feeling rebellious, he let him inside, thankful that he’d tidied up the day before. Neither of his parents would be showing up till 5:30 anyway.

Vince left his bag at the door and peeled off his coat, dropping it on the dining room table before lying out on the couch.

“We’ve got blueberry or mango, your choice,” Howard called from the kitchen.

“Bring both over, and a bowl too!” Vince shouted back.

Howard re-entered the room with the two yogurts, a bowl and a look that said, ‘God help me.’

“What are you going to do?”

Vince took the two yogurts and mixed them together in the bowl before taking a bite of the gross blue-orange mixture.

“You’ve gone wrong,” Howard scoffed in disbelief.

“How do you know it’s bad if you haven’t tried it?”

“Because I’m not a lunatic,” he retorted.

“Bite me.”

 

Vince ate most of it and got to pet Mildred again, but didn’t stay much longer after that, mainly due to Howard’s cool wearing off after 30 minutes. He kept glancing at the clock as if it were a time bomb ready to go off.

“You’ve never snuck out before have you?” Vince heaved his bag back onto his shoulder.

“It’s bad to sneak out,” Howard stated as if it were as simple as law.

Vince rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh. “Alright, whatever.”

He gave him another kiss and then departed down the street.

 

Howard’s hands shook as he rinsed the bowl in the kitchen, allowing the moment to replay in his head again and again till he had to ask:

What made Vince start doing it?

Why did he let this happen? Why did he continuously let it happen?

He knew why.

  
He pushed the thought away, but it came back, bulldozing over everything.

What if Vince used being hungry an excuse?

An excuse so it could happen twice in a day?

 

Christ, what the _hell._

 

Upset with himself, Howard dropped the bowl into the sink with a loud clatter and walked out into the living room, grabbing his bag and heading toward the stairs.  
Something vibrant caught his eye as he passed the dining room table and he stopped, retracing his steps.

 

Vince’s purple jacket remained laid out over one of the wooden chairs.

He approached it with caution, as if it were a sleeping animal, then gently picked it up.  
Heavier than it appeared, and adorned with decorations and band patches. Quite a lot to look at.  
 He traced a hand over the glitter that messily spelled out “ _Noir”_ across the collar and let the excess stain his fingers.

Wouldn’t he have noticed if he left it?  
 He even said himself it was freezing outside.

 Howard retreated to his room and peered out the window, but Vince was long gone. He then pulled out the journal looking over the jacket another time. 

 

_-Soft Cell_

_-The Who_

_-The Velvet Underground_

_-Ramones_

_-Brian Eno_

 

During dinner, he brought up having to go to the music shop sometime soon. Then when he went to lie down for the night, he put on Rubber Soul as he had been doing regularly, and turned out the lights.

 The moon shined through the split curtains, and the soft light splayed out across the coat sat atop his desk.

Drawn to it, he felt peculiar as he retraced his hand over “ _Noir,”_ and slowly lifted it to his face.

Strawberries, just as he suspected. 

It was beginning to become a comforting scent, and he couldn’t help but feel safe. From what he wasn’t sure of.

He fell asleep with it clutched in his hand.

 

                                                                             ***

.

  
 The only thing affordable at the record shop was The Velvet Underground’s album _The Velvet Underground & Nico_. A pretty redundant name for an album in his opinion, but he decided to trust Vince’s taste.

Howard handed the money he’d saved from doing chores to the intimidating girl behind the register and evaluated the rows of sweets lining the counter.  
He caught himself eyeing a tin of Altoids before averting his attention back to the cashier, who dropped the change in his hand.  
 He rushed out, unreasonably nervous that she could somehow read his thoughts.

 

The week started up again and if Vince realized his jacket was missing, he didn’t bring it up.

They talked over the revenge plan a couple more times, deciding they would do it Friday so that they wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath until 2 days later.

Vince continued to kiss Howard goodbye until Wednesday came.

 

 

WEDNESDAY, December 6TH, 1989

 

 

The sun hid behind a range of clouds that hung low and dark with the promise of rain. The bus shifted into park, causing the children at that stop to hustle out. The boys stepped off, but the doors didn’t close after them.

They hadn’t noticed, only halting when a wolf whistle came from behind them.

  
_He followed us._

 

Matthew suddenly stepped between the two, locking an uncomfortably bulky arm around each of their shoulders. They had been roped into this situation many times, but never past the ride home.

Vince rolled him off, trying to pick up the pace and escape, but was grabbed by the back of his shirt and reeled back in.

“How are my two favorite freaks doing?” Matthew cooed.

“Piss off,” Vince murmured, voice sour with annoyance.

“Wow Vincey, is that how you speak to the boys you like?”

It wasn’t even directed at him, but Howard’s chest felt swollen, his hands unconsciously balled into fists.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Vince spat back. Matthew laughed, impressed by this little comeback.

“Last time I checked I wasn’t the queer caught staring in the locker room.”

Face heating up, he made another attempt at shrugging Matthew off but was pinned under his arm tight.

 “Don’t you have better places to be? Like at the bottom of a ditch?” Howard sighed, leaning away from Matthew’s touch as much as possible.

“Oh look, Mole-eyes is getting jealous,” he gloated to Vince, who faced away.

“Why are you here?” Howard tried weakly, thrown off by that last comment.

“I’m going to my uncle’s today and thought you two might enjoy some decent company for once.”

“Well, let us know when it’s on its way,” Vince mumbled.  
Snickering, Matthew flicked his ear.

 

 _You’d think he would’ve left eventually, but it’s just my luck that his uncle lives across the street from me._  
He was laughing his ass off when he let us go and realized my house was right there. _He was laughing his ass off when he let us go and realized my house was right there._  
_It was disturbing, he shouted ‘I know where you live’ as we walked up the drive and watched from his porch as I opened the door._

Howard glimpsed over Vince’s shoulder to Matthew who stood across the street, eyes boring right into him.

He quickly deterred his attention back in front of him.

“Is he still there?” Vince didn’t dare see for himself

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passed.

“…You don’t believe anything he said, do you?” Vince looked at Howard searchingly.

He glimpsed away hesitantly.  
 Of course, he trusted him more than anyone else on earth, but a picture came to mind. Vince sitting in a room with half-naked boys, big eyes getting distracted and drifting to places they shouldn’t.

He felt ill suddenly, upset with himself for buying into false images, even if it was just for a second.

 

“’Course not,” he decided. “Anyone would go blind after seeing him nude.”

The corner of Vince’s lip lifted limply at his response before falling back into a straight line.

They stood there briefly, wordlessly staring at each other with the mutual understanding that this was as far as their exchange would go.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Howard said, the words painfully unfamiliar in his mouth. It felt as if he were talking to a stranger.

He closed the door and ran up to his room, pulling apart the curtains to the window, now blotched with rain droplets.

Thankfully, Matthew hadn’t followed, but Howard’s heart melted at the sight of Vince’s small figure trekking through the rain.

 

_I should have offered to walk him home, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe that just happened, I hate myself._

_I wish I could stand up for him, I wish we had the same gym class._

_Next time anything happens, I’m going to do something, I don’t care if I get punched out, I’ll punch back. I’ll fight in a heartbeat. I’d do anything for him._

 

He wrote feverishly, letting the words spill out across the page with a heavy hand.

 

_I want to protect him. I lo_

His pencil lead snapped from the amount of force he was pressing down into the paper.

There was a flash, followed by a loud thunderclap, and only then did he realize how dark it had gotten. He forced his muscles to unwind as he flipped on the light at his desk, and looked past the smudged glass.

Vince was out of sight and all he could do was pray that he made it home safely.

 

He shut the journal and stuffed it back into his bag before dropping onto his bed, his hand instantly nestling itself under his pillow where he stored the jacket. His fingers curled around what was assumed to be a sleeve and he listened to the heavy shower hitting the roof until ultimately, he blacked out.

 

Shapes took on new forms and magically he was walking home from school again, this time by himself. Everything looked the same except it was night, and the moon had a pair of eyes to look down on him.

He walked right past his house and across the street to Matthews’s uncles, coming up to a side window and kneeling down in the grass.

Bathed in orange light, the room had a large couch where Matthew sat.

Howard ducked lower out of sight and continued to sneakily peer through the blinds.

Although his lips moved, he was inaudible as he spoke to someone out of sight.  
He motioned for the person to move closer, and Vince walked into view.

Baffled, Howard’s mouth fell agape, eyes squinting into harsh lines as he tried to process the scene laying out in front of him.

They spoke some more, Vince looking away gingerly before Matthew’s arm snaked around him, pulling him up onto his lap.

Howard didn't move –  _couldn't_ move. He went to stand and found that his body was paralyzed in place, his eyes forced to watch as Vince giggled about something Matthew whispered in his ear.  
  
If the physical contact didn’t already make him want to dissipate, how intently they stared at each other did.

Vince only ever looked at him like that.   
  
It stung like an itch spreading across his whole body, yet he couldn’t move to scratch it.

Matthew pulled him in closer, tilting his head at an angle and Vince leaned into him, their lips coming together.

Howard let out a strangled gasp, merely teetering in shock. If he could he would have leaped on his feet and burst through the window himself.  
Surely, he couldn’t possibly be enjoying this seeing as they both hated Matthew equally, but he looked so happy.

As Vince melted against him, hugging around his neck and smiling into his cheek, Howard swore he saw Matthew look directly through the blinds right at him with the eyes of a snake. It was that same stare he wore when standing on his Uncle’s porch, except now with slit pupils, sporting a knowing smile that made his blood go cold and his skin prickle.

Suddenly, loud knocking jerked Howard awake, trembling and in a cold sweat.  
 His mother’s voice rang from behind the door, alerting him that dinner was ready. Glancing at the clock on his desk, he realized that it was 7:30 at night.

He didn’t eat much and found himself standing in the shower for an uncomfortable amount of time, zoning in and out of reality.

It was just a dream, a nightmare. A really odd nightmare, that left him with a nagging feeling he couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

He got back into bed, but couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep again. He was wide awake.

Of course, it was awful. Matthew was using Vince.  
At least that’s what Howard thought. He must have been. There was no logical way to explain why the two could be together, even in this dream scenario. Matthew was the farthest thing from being gay and Vince hated his guts.

However, he did love attention.

If Matthew weren’t a dick, and he gave Vince as much good attention as he usually did bad, maybe Vince would have liked what was happening.

His muscles tightened, all the cogs that helped his body function jamming at once.

It was something he'd been avoiding thinking about since Vince first came over, and it writhed in his chest like a bird trapped in a cage.  An idea came to him, unwanted and uninvited – if Vince were going to be attracted to a boy, that boy should be  _Howard._

 

Christ.

 

 He really had gone wrong.

 

 But it was true. How could it be anything else but true?   
  
His body seemed a lot heavier when he rolled onto his side.

 

He searched the blue wallpaper for a morsel of reassurance, a sign that said ‘Hey, no worries, everyone would swing the other way for their best mate,’ but of course he didn’t find it.

His mind kept him up with imaginations, figments of different stories, the nightmare replaying over and over.

Thinking about Vince with anyone else made that familiar biting sensation claw at him again and again.

 

 _Jealousy_ was probably a good name for it

 

                                                                             ***

 

 

Hardly anyone ate breakfast at school, so the lunchroom’s volume remained dull from the time Howard got up and made it back to the reliably barren table.

As usual, he got his granola bar and a packaged cereal for Vince, who instead of eating with a spoon, seemed to like his Froot Loops dry and often ate with his hands.

Despite riding the bus home in the afternoon, Vince drove to school in the mornings. Somehow, he still managed to be late and wouldn’t be showing up until 10 minutes before the first bell, leaving just enough time for a morning journal entry to reflect.

After double checking for watchful eyes (as if anyone was looking), Howard fished out his journal and flipped to the most recent page before shielding an arm around it to ensure it was blocked out of sight.

He stopped and read over what was last written.

 

_I want to protect him. I lo_

 

He was well aware of what letters to anticipate next but decided against finishing off the entry, instead scratching out the incomplete sentence in embarrassment.

 

 _I want to protect him._ ~~I lo~~  
  
  
That felt better.

“What’s that?”

 Howard’s eyes shot up, slapping the journal shut.

Thoughts of scolding Vince for sneaking up on him so abruptly- so early- so off time from their usual routine merely washed away in bewilderment.

He couldn’t focus on anything else but the skirt Vince was wearing.

 

Plaid and pleated, it reached just above the knee. Beneath it clinging to his legs were black pantyhose.

“Relax! I wasn’t peekin’,” Vince reassured raising his hands in defense then sliding into the rickety chair beside him. He snared the cereal and peeled off the protective seal, cheerful as usual.  

“You’re here early,” Howard concluded, plucking his notebook off the table in an attempt to refocus himself.

“My dad rushed me out this morning. Can’t you tell?”  he asked expectantly.

The usual cotton candy lip gloss and clumped mascara highlighted his eyes and lips.  
Maybe his nails needed to be repainted?  
Maybe that’s why he was wearing the skirt, his dad rushing him.  
Skirts were probably a lot easier to put on than trousers, not that he would dare bring it up or ask. 

 

 “I mean… You look fine to me,” he replied simply. 

Vince scoffed, his eyebrows furrowing at this unsatisfactory reply.

“I didn’t have time to put blush on,” he chided, popping a handful of Froot Loops in his mouth. “But on the drive here I figured out a way to get a temporary effect.”

Pulling out a pocket mirror, he scrubbed at his cheeks wickedly until they flushed.  
  
Howard had never really paid in-depth attention to it before, but Vince liked to doll himself up quite a bit.

It wasn’t the first time he watched the boy comb a hand through his thick long hair, observing himself with a smirk of contentment. But now with the gender lines so blurred, it was so painstakingly obvious.

No wonder his mother had mistaken him for a girl the first time he came over. He just looked feminine.

 He just looked beautiful.

 

“Howard? Howard? Howard-“

“Hm?”

“You didn’t listen to a thing I just said did you?”

“I was listening,” he lied, his eyes shifting around like a fruit fly.

“Right, then what was I talking about?”

“…Mick Jagger…?”

 “No,” Vince huffed. “I was talking about Matthew.”

The name stuck pins in needles up Howard’s spine faster than a shot of lightning.  
A flash of last night’s nightmare struck in his mind, and he unconsciously gripped onto the granola bar, feeling it crumble under its wrapping.

“What about him?”

“ _The plan_ ,” Vince hinted as if it were obvious.

For some reason, he had forgotten that in this reality, Vince hated Matthew just as much as he did. He allowed his handle on his breakfast to relax. He then pulled apart the wrapper, crumbs spilling onto his shirt as he took a bite.

“What about it?”

“Do you think we should push it off till next week? Y’know, since Matthew bothered us all yesterday? We wouldn’t want to make it obvious.”

“ _No_ ,” Howard replied thoughtlessly. He hadn’t meant to be so defensive, but the rush of anger slowly coiled itself back around his chest.

Vince raised an eyebrow.

 “Are you sure? What if he realizes…?”

Pieces of yesterday’s entry came back to him.

_Next time anything happens I’m going to do something, I don’t care if I get punched out, I’ll punch back, I’ll fight in a heartbeat._

“I won’t let them bother us,” Howard assured

Vince snorted.

“C’mon, Howard.”

“What?”

“We’re easy targets, remember? You even said so yourself.”

Howard remained quiet for an instant before shaking his head, persistent.

 “I still think we should do it tomorrow, so the weekend comes and he won’t be able to bother us.”

“You’re forgetting a very important detail.”

“And what’s that?”

“His uncle lives right across the street. He knows where you live now. He could do whatever he wants to you.” The more Vince spoke, the more concern shifted into his voice. “I don’t know, Howard... Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“What?” Howard tried to sound incredulous. “But we shook on it.”

He hated hearing himself talk. He would have dropped the plans in an instant if Vince wanted to back out, but a stubborn part of him wanted to see Matthew upset, wanted to see Matthew _suffer_ for actions he didn’t even commit.

The bell rang for first period.

“I know we did but I just don’t know about this Howard… Let’s talk about it tonight,” said Vince.

 With a reluctant agreement, they parted ways until lunch, taking their usual spots on the ground. Vince adjusted himself so nothing would be exposed and as people passed, more staring and whispering ensued.  
“Sometimes I wonder how you don’t mind being gawked at like an animal in captivity,” Howard commented casually.

“I get funny looks all the time,” he shrugged, quieter than usual. “I think I look good.”

“You do,” he agreed before realizing what he just said. Vince smiled sheepishly, going mute all together as he stirred his straw through his chocolate milk.  
  
As Howard took a bite of his sandwich, his eyes subconsciously trailed down to Vince’s leg pressed up beside his. His gaze rested at the line where thigh disappeared under plaid until he caught sight of the large run that dragged down to a wide tear at Vince’s scraped knee. It was bleeding.

He nearly choked.

“What happened here?” Howard asked pinching the tights accusingly.

“Don’t worry, I handled it, alright?” Vince swatted his hand away.

“You _handled it_? What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Vince interjected, all of a sudden self-conscious, similar to when spelling was brought up on the bus.

There was no use arguing with him when he got like this.

“Fine, but we’re going to the nurse’s office to get that patched up,” Howard instructed, getting on his feet.

Vince groaned in annoyance before standing with a discomforted scowl, leaning lopsidedly onto his shoulder.  
“Y’know that lunch is nearly over, yeah? We’re gonna be late to next class.”

Howard tossed the remains of their food into a nearby bin, facing him again and standing up a bit taller.

“ _So?_ ”

Vince raised an eyebrow, a small, impressed smile curling across his lips that made Howard’s heart flutter.

 Jutting an elbow out for support and Vince accepted it thankfully, locking their arms together.

 They got more stares as they exited the room and as nerve-racking as it was, something in Howard pushed him to puff out his chest and keep his chin up, a sense of pride swelling in his lungs.

The front office was a cold maze of white walls, but they managed to navigate to the right spot without asking for help.

The nurse eyed the two suspiciously before disappearing into a back room. Vince took a seat in a plastic chair as instructed, and Howard leaned against the wall beside him.

The red pigment of the plaid skirt contrasted heavily with the dull room, his bloody knee like the bullseye of a target.

Howard nodded his head to it, voice echoing in the small space before adjusting his volume. 

“So, care to explain yourself?”

Vince picked at the dirt under his fingernails, not bothering to look up.

“I’ve got gym second.”

Howard crossed his arms tightly to himself, trying to keep calm.

“What did they do?”

“What does it look like, Einstein?” he laughed bitterly. “ They knocked me over as I was leaving to change.”

The nurse came back in by then and Vince clutched onto Howard’s wrist as she wiped the scrape down with disinfectant.  She bandaged it and went back to the other room to put her things away.

Vince stood up slowly and observed the colorful bandage with a smile. It was just like him to find a bright side to everything.

“How did you handle it?”

 Vince slung his backpack on before surveying the room with vague worry.

“You’ll probably find out on the bus, “

Taken aback, Howard followed Vince into the hall.

“What did you do?”

He looked around nervously, mouth slowly opening only to be cut off by the bell ringing overhead. Administrators passing by urged them to get moving and Vince turned to go down an opposite path.

“You’ll see,” was all he said before they split off.

 

The rest of the day dragged on for what seemed like years.

Howard mounted the bus with much anticipation, but things seemed empty.

He walked down the aisle and noticed that Matthew, Robert, James, and Ross weren’t there.

Howard slipped into his usual spot and watched the rest of the kids flood aboard. At the last moment possible, the crew of assholes mounted aboard, somewhat winded and laughing. The noise level picked up considerably and he almost didn’t notice the doors that swung shut with a ‘ _thwack_.’

He sat up, alerted and confused.

Was he in the wrong seat?  
He couldn’t have been. Everyone was sat where they always were.

He looked across the sea of people, but Vince was nowhere to be found. He pressed his face to the window, watching the school scuttle out of view, rising panic surging through his veins.

 Ross laughed, diverting his attention.

“Looking for the she-male?”

Howard cringed at the insult but didn’t reply, merely eyeing the scenery outside as they drove. He half expecting to see Vince walking somewhere through the bushes.

“He caused a scene in second period today,” Matthew sighed, resting his chin atop the back of Howard’s seat. There was a noticeable scratch on his cheek that wasn’t there yesterday. “You just lay back and take it. He’s got bigger balls than you and he’s the girl.” 

Howard was tempted to ask what exactly Vince did but decided against it, more concerned with the second half of what was said.

“What do you mean he’s _the_ _girl_?”

“In your fag duo he’s the girl, isn’t he? He looks the part,” James piped up and the others howled in laughter.

Howard turned away, eyes fixating on the outside, ears trying to block out them out.

“He’s not gonna be out there, mate,” Robert snickered

“Do you know where he is?” he snapped back.

Robert exchanged glances with the other boys but didn’t answer. The bus stopped, and in the blink of an eye, it was Howard’s turn to get off.

He grudgingly gathered his things and looked to them all.

“Where is he?” he asked a final time.

 Matthew shrugged in an amused manner, clearly not bothered by the graveness in Howard’s tone. Another chorus of laughter pushed him down the aisle and onto the street.

The doors shut violently behind him, and the overwhelming absence at his side shrouded his thoughts like fog.

Where was he?

They had been planning this since last week. He’d been expecting so much out of the day to come. It hadn’t even started yet and it was over.

The sky remained as gloomy as the day before, and although he was tempted to stand and wait, Howard trudged home, hardly bothered by the heavy water droplets that pelted against his hair and shoulders.

 He made it to cover and unlocked the door, dragging his soaked shoes against the matt before stepping inside.

  
THURSDAY, December 7TH, 1989  
  
_He never showed up._

_I kept an eye on the window all afternoon, but even when the sun went down there was no sign of him, besides maybe a couple of cars that drove down the street. I’m not really sure what his looks like._

_I would go check up on him, but I don’t know where he lives._

_I’m not sure what his house looks like either._

 

  
Howard went still after he wrote that sentence.

How much did he actually know about Vince?

Vince knew where he lived, what his parents looked like, what his room looked like, the fact that he still kept his toys and he even knew that he kept a journal.

 Meanwhile, Howard knew things like his birthday, favorite sweets, colors, icons, and comic books, but what about the serious stuff?

Things you can tell the police if your friend goes missing like their dad’s name, mom’s name (or in this case, dad’s girlfriend’s name) or address. Important things.

He knew Vince and his father didn’t get along the best, but even then that was as far as his knowledge stretched.  
  
Astonished with himself, he wasn’t sure what to do next.

 

_Vince is my best friend._

 

He wrote.

 

_Vince is my best friend.  
Vince is my best friend and I’d do anything for him._

 

He needed to reassure himself, to convince himself that it was fine. It was fine that he couldn’t make his way to Vince’s house to check up on him, and it was fine that he didn’t have his home phone to ring him up and ask why he bailed on their plans.

  
Pressing the cover shut, he slid a heavy hand over the binding and stood with poor balance.

Whilst making up some poor excuse to his parents to protect his friend’s image, he prayed for a knock at the door that never came.

Locking himself up in his room, he didn’t shower and dropped onto the bed without putting anything on. He just laid in silence, and Mildred, sensing that something was wrong, curled up next to him.

Consciousness began fading after an hour or so, and every moment leading up to his passing out, he watched the moon intently, faintly picturing its burning eyes glaring down at him once more. A bit of hope struck Howard’s mind that Vince would fly into view and knock on his window like Peter Pan, before whisking him away into the night, but no one came.

Instead, he slipped into a black sleep and dreamt of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really flattered by the response this fic is getting..... pls let me know what u think either here or on tumblr @kingofmods.... thank you guys seriouslY... <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another quick disclaimer: There are more homophobic slurs/violence in this chapter in case that makes it harder to read for some of u!!  
> Sorry this chapter took longer to upload... I wasn't too confident in it for a while so please let me know what u think!

Vince didn’t show up to school the next day.

Howard just barely managed to pull through the morning before faking sick and getting signed out.  
On the car ride home, he curled up in the back seat and watched the gray sky shuffle along, wondering what he did wrong. 

Maybe Vince was just scared of getting confronted by Matthew and the others after whatever he did on Thursday? But why wouldn’t he get dropped off at Howard’s house like planned?

Maybe he hadn’t told his dad he was going over in the first place and that tripped up everything?  
 Maybe he was grounded? But if that were the case, his dad would have still made him go to school, so what was happening?

“You doing alright, dear?” his mom interrupted.

If he was perfectly honest, he felt just about ready to throw up.

“Yeah… stomach hurts is all.”

Howard’s Auntie Margaret arrived later that afternoon, and when showing her into his room she found the jacket.  
He’d completely forgotten about it when she went to test out the mattress.  
She fished it out from under the pillow.

“What’s this?”  
  
He hadn’t meant to come off as rude, but the way he snatched it from her protectively earned him a stern scolding. He reached into the dark for a reason as to why he was hiding it, and pulled out, “It belongs to Vince, my girlfriend.”

“Odd name for a girl,” was surprisingly all she commented. Luckily, Auntie Margaret wasn’t the brightest.

Even though he was “sick,” he still had to sleep on the couch; it was only polite.  
He offered to blow up the air mattress himself, but his parents claimed it would be too much trouble, and Auntie Margaret deserves the room to herself. In the end, he accepted fate.  However, before he was banished to downstairs he nicked a few important things.  
Once sure everyone had gone to bed, he pulled the blankets over his head and rolled onto his stomach. Clicking on the flashlight, he retrieved his journal and pen and laid them flat against his pillow.

He flipped to the latest page and stared at the crinkled drawing he still kept as a bookmark. His fingers lingered on its sketched face before moving it off to the side.  
  


FRIDAY, December 8TH 1989

_Auntie Margaret is here for the weekend and is sleeping in my room. I’m on the couch._

_She found Vince’s jacket when she went into my room and I panicked and told her he was my girlfriend. I don’t know how I managed to get out of that one, but I did._

_Vince didn’t come to my house yesterday, and he didn’t come to school today either._

_I’m starting to think something might be wrong._

_Maybe his knee injury was a lot more serious than we thought and he had to go to the hospital or something. I don’t know what I would do if that were the case._

_I don’t even care if he hates me anymore. I just want to know if he’s okay._

_That’s a lie. I do care if he hates me._

_He has no reason to anyhow. I’ve done nothing but been kind to him and we’re best mates. It can’t be that._  
 I really hope it’s not that.  
  
All of this probably isn’t even a big deal like I’m making it out to be.  
Vince will show up to school on Monday peachy as usual; ‘Oh  sorry bout that! I got a cold is all and had to get signed out!’  
_And I’ll look like an idiot for getting so worried._

_I’ll make sure to ask him about important stuff then. I’ll get his phone number and his dads name and all that stuff._

_For now, I’m going to sleep._  
  
  
  
Just as suspected, he awoke in the morning with a spine full of knots and bags under his eyes.

He pushed through the weekend with a slightly calmer air, believing in himself that Vince would show up on Monday. He’d explain himself with an apology for not passing on the message to Leroy or something.

Auntie Margaret left late Sunday and he got to reclaim his room.  
From the look of things, she hadn’t touched much except for neatly hanging up Vince’s jacket in the closet.

When he slipped it off the hanger a small note flittered onto the floor.

It was from her, reading:

_If I were you I would iron this before returning it to your little lady. She would probably appreciate it greatly._

She was right in that it got kind of wrinkly from staying stuffed under his pillow all the time, but he wasn’t quite sure when he planned on returning it.  
He’d been waiting for it to pop up in conversation so he could shrug and casually act as if he’d forgotten to bring it up, but no such moment presented itself and so he held onto it gratefully.

He tucked the little note into his journal and instead returned to his bed. He never realized how comfortable it was, and fell asleep almost peacefully.

 

  
***

 

 

As he approached the school, Monday’s pink sunrise shone blissfully against his skin.  
It had been so frigid and rainy recently, it was a nice surprise that there was merely a breeze brushing past that day. He got off the bus and walked along the gates, somewhat content with the muddy murmurs of students like himself passing by.

Distracted by the birds that flew overhead, Howard stumbled over a crack in the pavement.  
 He managed to catch himself, the urge to glare over his shoulder at the lift in the concrete squandered when noticing the delicate flowers that sprouted from it.

There was really no reason, no drive to pick them, but he did so before entering the main gates.  

 Howard set his things at the usual table and watched his groggy classmates enter in patchy streams as he got breakfast.

Returning to the table, he paused in his tracks.  
 It appeared that some boy in a windbreaker decided to plop down right next to his things.  
He was certainly no expert in any social sanctions but was fairly certain that setting out his things made it clear that his table was claimed territory.

Maybe the boy was new?  
  
He couldn’t tell since his head was laid down, buried in his arms but either way, he would have to be stern and assertive.  
He approached the table uncertainly and cleared his throat loud enough for the boy to hear. He doesn’t budge.

“Uhm,” Howard began awkwardly. “I’m sorry, sir but that seats taken… so if you would please leave… that would be nice. Please.”

Far from intimidating, but still something that seemed to gather the intruder’s attention.

He lifted his head lazily, arms still crossed on the table.  
  
With a bruised eye and stained band-aid plastered above his brow, his nose puffed swollen and scabbed similar to the split in his lip. There was also a large cut running down his cheek. He looked dead.  
All color drained from Howard’s face and he just stared, unsure what he should focus on first:  
 The fact that this boy had taken a serious beating or the fact that this boy was Vince.

His hair was hacked off, reaching just below his ears and uneven all around.

“Howard, it’s me.”

Watching the stranger’s mouth align with the sound of that painfully familiar voice made him light headed. Howard dropped into the chair next to him, hardly able to support himself. His mind spun in a downward spiral.

Vince looked uncomfortable and probably _felt_ uncomfortable all dressed down in normal clothes, no makeup. He appeared completely ordinary in every way.  
His eyes were half lidded and bloodshot, rims red and damp. He’d clearly been crying.

He wanted to reach out and hug him just as Vince did the first day he came over. He wanted to install those same feelings he’d given him, the comfort that everything would be okay, that everything could be and _was_ wonderful. He wanted to feel his heart beat against his chest and know that Vince was really alive because it certainly didn’t look like he was.

He wanted to hold him, but all he did was sit and stare.

“I know,” Vince’s haggard voice sniffed without a trace of charm. He looked ashamed as he murmured, “I’m hideous.”  
 

“No,” Howard blurted without missing a beat.

Vince didn’t give any indication that he even heard his response, simply picking at the paint peeling off his nails.  
 

How could this have happened?  
How could Howard have let this happen?

  
“Who did this to you?”

That wasn’t the most polite way of phrasing the question, but he wasn’t looking to tiptoe around the topic.

Vince’s brows knitted together, the band-aid shifting with the muscles in his face.

“Oh, I don’t know, take a wild guess. Who do you _think_ did it, Howard?” His words bit like a snake, the sarcasm dripping in his tone too unfamiliar and venomous.

Howard tried not to focus on it, or question if he were some stunt double or something to make a show of him. He knew the anger wasn’t targeted at him, and in the moment his feelings weren’t important. What mattered was Vince.

Vince and the attacker, who was becoming increasingly clearer as Friday’s events played out in his brain.

“Matthew,” the name dropped into place and everything made sense. His hands subconsciously balled into fists.

“Not just Matthew,” Vince corrected with a weak scoff. “All of them. On the way to the bus on Thursday.” He pulled off the table and hugged his arms around himself, recalling the memory.

Howard envisioned it all happening, the group closing in, Vince hopeless and alone crying for help that never came as everyone takes turns at kicking his stomach in.  
He could practically feel the blows jab at his gut and had to concentrate on forming a response rather than getting sick.

He didn’t get the chance to open his mouth before the bell cuts in above them.

Vince hissed in strain whilst heaving his bag onto his shoulder, but insisted he was fine when Howard offered to carry it to class for him. 

He shouldn’t be at school.

He should be at home, resting and asleep.

Even if the weekend passed, he was evidently still sore and it burned to watch him trudge off down the hallway, knowing he wouldn’t be seen till after Matthew and Ross bother him again.

He should be at home, resting and safe.

He shouldn’t be at school.

 

Howard pulled out his journal in almost every class, but couldn’t bring himself to write anything. He couldn’t focus until they met up again.

 

“Gym go okay?” he asked despite the still apparent glassiness in Vince’s eyes. It hadn’t left since breakfast.

“I skipped.”

“Oh.”

If it were any other time or situation, he would have gone into a lecture on the importance of attendance, but in this case, the alternative would be worse than any punishment given by an administrator.

They sat and ate, little to no communication ensuing past that point.

Eventually, Howard got up to toss out their leftovers, and when he sat back down Vince didn’t spare a single glance. His washed out eyes gone gray and heavy, boring straight ahead.  
Sitting next to a corpse would have been easier.

He really couldn’t apologize enough. It wasn’t even his fault, but everything was like another surreal nightmare only his mind could conjure up. There was no other explanation for seeing Vince so miserable and washed up, so bland and colorless.  
So average.

But what could he possibly say to change what’s already been done?  
  
No words could take away from the fact that there was no security anymore. Retaliating in whatever way Vince did backfired. He was put in his place, head ripped straight out of the clouds.  
No more revenge plans. No more possible success stories. Only fear.

With nothing like eating left to distract him, the true quietness started to settle in.

Vince wasn’t going to talk, and he wasn’t sure if he himself could.  
But it was his responsibility to keep things ticking along for once.

Howard briefly looked him over and tried not to stare at the cut that ran clean across his cheek.

Vince sat slouched, legs drawn to his chest and arms crossed in his lap.

His eye caught sight of his chipped nail-polish and stayed there.

Without much coherent thought, he scooted in closer, enough so that their shoulders almost touched.  
If Vince noticed he didn’t show it, attention still fixated ahead, far off in some other world.

It should have felt perverted, knowing deep down that some twisted part of him considered Vince something more than a friend, but it didn’t.  
With extreme hesitance, he slowly placed his hand atop of his.

Vince tensed instantly, eyes widening and attention redirecting to Howard, who tried not to recoil in fear.

Although certainly surprised, he didn’t pull away.   
He just looked at him questioningly, hand slowly relaxing under his.

Only slightly sure that that was a good sign, Howard took a step further and gradually shifted his fingers so they aligned with his, lacing together. That’s the most he could manage before looking off someplace else, blood rising to his cheeks and heart beating out of time.   
Vince stared off as well, but not like before where he seemed empty and distracted.  
Acting just as in the moment as Howard, he scooted in closer.

They stayed that way until the end of lunch.   
The bell rang and the room bustled, Vince drew his hand away first, scanning everyone for prying eyes.   
Howard wiped his palms down against his jeans before turning back to Vince looking up at him, still wary but gaze slightly more grounded.

“I’ll see ya,” his voice was quieter. It sounded as if he’d forgotten what it was like to talk.

It could have been a mistake, but his hand grazed against Howard’s one last time.  
  
“See ya,” he replied, just as clumsily before they separated on to their next classes.

That was undeniably strange but made it much easier to relax and focus in his classes, knowing that somewhat in some way Vince was slightly okay.  
Slightly was better than not at all.

The final bell rang and dismissed everybody. Crowds gathered at the bus ramp, and instead of boarding right away, Howard waited for Vince to arrive.

He’d been in no rush, limping over one lifeless step at a time, a look of absolute dread stamped on his face. 

The buses were almost ready to depart by the time he made it there.

“I can’t do this,” he swallowed, voice audibly shaky. It was the closest he looked to crying all day and Howard couldn’t stand to watch him directly.

He instead assessed the area before drawing a hand to his as he did before. Vince instantly reacted, clinging on tightly.

“I’m scared,” he insisted.

 

_Vince is my best friend._ _  
_Vince is my best friend and I’d do anything for him.__

__  
  
 “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this,” Howard assured and before Vince could ask what that meant, he let go and started up the steps.  
Vince stayed hidden behind his shoulder as they trudged down the aisle, immediately greeted with howling and whistling, courtesy of the dick clique.

Howard stepped aside and let him slide into their seat per usual. Vince dropped down and quickly folded in on himself, pressing as close to the window as possible to hide.  
He joined him, sitting close.

The shuttle started up and began its bumpy route out the gates. It didn’t take long before comments started to slip in their direction.

“Missed you today in second,” Ross beckoned, and Matthew hummed in agreement.

“Where’d you run off to?”

No one answered.

Howard, in the midst of a battle with himself, tried to maintain self control.

Maybe if the two just kept quiet, they would be left alone.  
 That plan actually seemed to be working, until they approached their stop.  
Matthew hovered over them once more.

“You haven’t thanked me yet for the free makeover Vince… I did you a favor by making you look less like a fuckin' queer,” he snarled.

 Unprovoked, he dropped a heavy hand onto Vince’s head who shrunk under his touch, running dirty fingers through his chopped hair.  
  


_Next time anything happens, I’m going to do something, I don’t care if I get punched out, I’ll punch back. I’ll fight in a heartbeat. I’d do anything for him._  
  
  


Howard hadn’t even realized what he’d done till the silent seconds in which reality stopped and seemed to frazzle the hairs on the back of his neck.

His knuckles thrummed with energy, hands balled into fists. In a fraction of an instant, he processed the look on Vince’s face- the look on everyone’s face as he stood in the aisle, distant ringing the only noise on his plain of reality.

He’d just punched Matthew in the face.

As sound returned to him, the screech of kids screaming signaled action to continue in full motion, and Matthew tackled him to the ground.

Pain cracked along his cheekbone as he toppled to the floor, and it didn’t stop there. Forceful fists crashed against his nose and jaw more times than he could keep track.  
 By the time the bus driver made it to the back, he managed to wriggle his way out from under Matthew and rolled onto his stomach.  
Pulling himself up on his knees, he brought a hand to his lips and hacked up something hard.

His eyes refocused poorly and he could only make out the faint outline of a tooth soaking in a small pool of blood in the middle of his palm.

Next thing he knew, he was pushed out on the hot pavement, the once pleasant sun’s rays burning down on him.  
 Kids came flooding out after him, stepping around his crumpled beaten body in fear and awe. Vince rushed to his side, blubbering with tears streaming down his cheeks.

The driver shouted something, most likely foul, before driving off. Vince struggled in managing to lift Howard up on his arm, all the while murmuring encouraging things that could hardly be heard over the adrenaline pounding in his ears.

The pair trudged to Howard’s and when reaching the door, Vince retrieved the keys from him to unlock it just as he’d seen him do many times before.

He nudged the door open and drove it shut behind them with his foot.

Howard’s senses must have returned to him by then because he could more clearly understand Vince when he asked, “Where’s the first aid kit?”

Talking made the taste of blood more prominent on his tongue and he nearly gagged in response. “Upstairs bathroom.”

The dizziness had worn down slightly, but Vince still insisted on guiding him up the steps, arm snug around his waist. It only made him feel queasier, but there wasn’t really a polite way to say ‘you’re making things worse.’

He nearly coughed up a lung in embarrassment when Vince pushed the jacket off the bed to make room for him. It fell onto the floor in a bright purple puddle that shouted, ‘Look what he’s been hiding!’ But wasn’t acknowledged it at all.

With all the pillows piled up against the headboard, he was urged to sit back by a weak hand pushing against his chest. A small attempt at being assertive.

“You stay down.”

He hadn’t planned on getting up anyways but nodded in hopes that it would comfort the other’s frayed nerves.

Vince slipped back into the room and sat at his side, one comfortable knee pressed against his leg.

He brought a damp cloth and silently popped open the small box, laying out its contents carefully. Howard stared at him, too rattled to remember about being discrete.

 “Bite on this.”

Everything, even the way his hands wrung around the towel made Vince looked so much older.  
It was because of the outfit, the hair, the bags under his eyes.  
It was like seeing a wild animal forced into captivity.  
It was like seeing a boy being forced to grow up.

Howard accepted the cold cloth, pressing it into his gums where the tooth had fallen out and winced.

Vince wiped down the scrape on his nose, peeling a band-aid and pressing it over gently, lips slightly parted in concentration.  
It was ridiculously attractive.  
Suddenly conscious, Howard closed his eyes, pretending to rest before his mind entertained anything too outlandish.

“I think you’ve got a black eye,” Vince breathed, a slight shiver still tinting his words. A click sounded that the box had been shut and weight lifting off the bed signaled he’d gotten up.

Howard nodded absently, having already accepted the reality that he probably looked pretty messed up. Footsteps led out the door and he opened his eyes again.  

He drew the rag from between his teeth and was somehow still shocked to see that it was stained with a big rosy patch. He used the dried end to wipe away the remaining blood that caked the corners of his mouth and gaped at the splotches that littered the once white fabric.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Vince sat back down, taking him by surprise. There was an uneasy scowl on his face as he eyed all the blood.

Howard hid the towel at his side, swallowing down what was left of the metallic feeling that soaked the inside of his mouth.

“I wanted to.”

Vince shook his head.

“Yeah well, you shouldn’t have done it. Now look at you, all pummeled and bloody,”

“So you can fight back but I can’t?” Howard asked a little more accusingly than intended.

“It’s different, Howard,” he asserted.

“No, it’s not. How is it different?”

“Because I didn’t touch them!”

“Well, what did you do?!”

Dampening the scab on his lip, Vince bit down on his tongue before replying. 

“I cut the bottom of their bags so all their things would fall out when going to leave. Also their trousers. I cut holes in the backs of their trousers.”

His squinty eyes widened in surprise.

 “What the _hell_ were you thinking?”

“They ripped holes in my pantyhose, so I put holes in their trousers okay!?” he shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface.  
 “They called me some awful names and-and I’m tired of it! I don’t want to be anyone’s bitch anymore, Howard, it’s not fun. I don’t know what you want from me!”

 It still took a lot of getting used to, Vince shouting at him in a serious way. He sat stiffly, taken aback by the raw resentment in his tone, and tried to concentrate on giving a better reply.

“So… What happened after they realized?”

He only asked to be polite in prodding an explanation out of him. It was fairly obvious what happened; It was quite literally written all over his face. 

Vince tugged at the cuffs of his windbreaker in absence of the colorful bracelets that usually hugged his wrists. A nervous tick of his.

“I ran off before the bell even rang. Everything was fine until the end of the day. I walk around back to get to the buses and… I don’t know how, but they knew and cornered me there.” The longer he spoke, the chalkier he sounded, thin voice growing drier and drier.  
 “I’d left my scissors on accident. They pushed me against the wall… kept throwing me back into it till I admitted I did it. Matthew hit me pretty hard, not as bad as he went at you, but I fell on the ground. Everyone held me there… I tried to fight back but only got a few scratches in. He cut up my clothes. He cut up my hair, all disgusting and patchy. Ugly.’’  He wouldn’t look at Howard, tears slowly forming again.  
“They spat on me and left. By the time I got to the ramp all the buses had gone off.”

At first, he may have felt slightly guilty for throwing the first punch. Now he felt nothing.  
Nothing but livid fury and raw animosity, the urge to rip them all to pieces stronger than ever before.

It took a lot to not get heated all over again, to not hop up and run after that bus to (attempt to) beat the shit out of all of them. There was a lot of things preventing that from actually happening, like his build and the distance everyone was probably at by then, but he liked to think it was because he had to be there for Vince.

“How’d you get home?”

“Walked most of the way. It’s a lot further than you realize when you ride the bus every day y’know?” he almost laughed about it, a bitter kind of cackle that died in his throat. “I took a shortcut through the park to get home. I didn’t want any more people seeing me.”

If it weren’t for the awful explanation clogging up his mind, he might have been flattered that Vince walked the long way home for him every day. In the moment he couldn't think much of it, still in need of answers. 

“Your dad couldn’t pick you up from school?”

“No, he spent the night out for some gig. Left me with his shit girlfriend who didn’t bother to stick around as usual, and I was alone till Sunday. She came and hadn’t thought to check up on me. When he saw what I looked like he was furious. She said I did it to myself to get attention so she didn’t look bad. Said I was a terrible brat.”  
  
“And he believed her?”

“Yeah,”

“Why?”

Vince sniffed.  
“Cause they think I do everything for attention.”

An absolutely reasonable assumption to make, but not entirely fair. Howard frowned.

He hated to accept it, but it was true. There was a lot to Vince that he didn’t know. That was going to have to change.

“I hate them,” Vince admitted. It seemed to be the first time he was taking in those words too.  
“I hate all of them… I don’t know what to do Howard… I-I don’t…I…”

He was crying again.

Howard didn’t stop him when he wrapped his arms around his neck. He bawled into his chest, just hoarse, uncontrollable sobs, shriveled up against him like a child.

Despite being utterly dumbfounded, he was aware that in these moments, it was most common to make some sort of contact back. Lankily wrapping his arms around Vince, he forced himself to pull him in closer, gently patting his back.  
He probably wasn’t comforting to hold at all, usually avoiding touch at all costs if he could help it, but that didn’t stop him from taking the chance to show his best friend the compassion he couldn’t put into words. 

It was just tears and gibberish for a long while until Vince managed to string together a coherent sentence in the mix of all his weeping.

“I’m ugly n-now- I look hideous. “

Howard detested the weight those words held, making his heart drop like an anchor. He held him out at arm’s length to look him head on.  

Vince’s cheeks were blotchy and wet, eyes inflamed and brows permanently fixed in a despairing formation. The split in his lip glistened and his bruised eye shone in a mixture of yellow and purple.

He looked like a wreck, all ruddy and broken down, an absolute shaking mess. He never wanted to see him this way and yet...

He looked beautiful.

“Don’t… say that,”

 “But my-“

“Don’t let them win,” he asserted, shaking his head. “You’re better than all of them.”

Vince sniffed, nose red and runny.

“But my face _, my hair,_ I’m- _”_

“You’re face will heal. Hair grows back,”

“But I want to feel pretty right now. I don’t want to wait- I want to feel good _now_.”

Howard wasn’t surprised that he described himself as pretty rather than handsome. He also wasn’t surprised by the impatience.

What could he do to make Vince feel pretty?

He himself had never felt pretty in his life. How does one go about achieving prettiness?

“I think I’ve got something that could help…”

After digging through the assortment of aged neutral tone makeup and clear coat nail polish in his mom’s bathroom cabinet, he managed to get his hands on it.

He brought it back to the room.

“A curling iron?” Vince sounded skeptical. Howard shrugged.

“Never curled your hair before?

“No.”

A beat passed.

“Well… there’s a first time for everything yeah?

A small half smile, the first reminiscence of a light-hearted expression to graze his face that day. He scrubbed the tears from his eyes before nodding.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s give it a go.”

They shut the door to the bathroom.

Vince leaned over the counter, only slightly less enthralled with his reflection than usual. Howard lounged on the toilet, watching the other’s hair fall into tight waves.

“I think I’ve done it wrong. I look like one of those snobby poodles,” He pouted.

“You always look like a poodle,”

“Well I don’t want to look like one of the dickhead ones, do I? I want to be one of the nice fluffy pink ones.”

Howard blinked.  
“Poodles aren’t pink, Vince.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No I don’t actually,” Howard retorted.

“Would you be quiet and help with the back of my head?”

Howard stood up as prompted.

“What do you need?”

“A hand held mirror would be nice,”

He checked a couple of drawers before confirming.  
 “Haven’t got one,”

Vince shrugged, releasing a curly strand from the wand and ruffling it into place.

“I’ve got a couple, but they’re in my bag downstairs.”

“I’ll go grab them,”

“Nah don’t,” he stopped him. “You think you could just help me instead?”

“What do you mean?

Vince held out the iron to him.

To Howard, it looked like a weapon, glinting in the fluorescent light. Howard backed away as if being threatened with a knife.

“No way.”

“Why not? It’s just a small bit left; I just need you to get the back.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He was stunned.  
Vince, the Vince Noir, was asking him to touch his hair, the (not so) impenetrable force that has been off limits since day one.

It was too intimidating a task.

“I don’t know how.”

He rolled his eyes.

“First time for everything, yeah?”

Howard wasn’t sure if he hated or loved it when Vince did that.

He pretended to be annoyed when snatching the iron from him. He pressed a thumb over the clamp and watched it open and close menacingly like the mouth of a crocodile.

“You just watched me do it, it’s not that hard. Unless… you’re too scared.”

Howard battled between whether he should feel thankful or annoyed by the familiar cocky smile that slowly brightened up Vince’s once lifeless face.

“As if,” he huffed confidently, but his hands shook as he took a lock of his hair and twisted it around the metal rod, letting the clamp smack shut noisily.

It was softer than expected, his hair.

 “So. Uhm… How long do I hold it here…?”

“30 seconds… one… two-”

“I can count, thanks.”

“Three…,” Vince continued.

“Vince.”

“Four…”

Howard sighed.

“…Five… Six …” They counted in unison and from there they got off track.

It happened again: The somehow knowing what the other would say next.  
Their voices intermingled and harmonized, becoming one entity through a long-winded rhyme about numbers and how seven ate nine, which lead to cannibalism which lead to this and that, which lead to Vince shouting in pain.

The smell of oncoming burning hair brought him back down to earth and he released Vince from the heated death trap.

“Fuck, you burned me!” he whined, hovering a hand over his presumably burnt scalp.

“Shit-I’m sorry I’m sorry-“ Howard babbled, dropping the iron onto the counter. He guided him to sit on the toilet and wadded up some toilet paper, running it under cold water before placing it carefully over his scalding roots.

Vince pouted and lightly patted the sensitive skin before tossing out the paper in the bin next to them.

That was embarrassing.

Things grew silent again and Howard didn’t know if he should acknowledge that they just did that again. The ‘funny little songs ‘as Vince referred to them.  
Instead, he favored stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets out of nervous habit.

His fingers grazed against something soft.

The flowers.

He removed them carefully. Although slightly wilted and limp, they still glowed as beautifully as they did that morning.

Vince watched curiously as Howard separated the stems evenly before crouching down in front of him as if that were his original intention. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but it seemed to clear the air instantly. Either that or made it tense in a new way entirely.  
He gently placed a daisy into his curls  
  
 A natural smile quirked at Vince’s lips and he cast his eyes down into his lap. He was folding and unfolding his hands as Howard continued, tucking flowers into tufts of crimped hair and sliding the last one behind his ear.

“There,” he sucked in, eyeing his work nervously before looking back at Vince’s face.

 Huge mistake.

His big eyes were gazing back at Howard intently. Past the damage, he could almost describe them as beckoning, like he was waiting for something.

How do you remain calm when confronted by somebody so stunning looking you dead in the face? Like you mean something? Like you _matter_?

Merely a second had passed, and his hands already grew clammy as he inched away.  
Intrusive thoughts pushed him to cup his cheek, maybe graze his thumb along the cut that Matthew put there and kiss it better, just as Vince had kissed him in that same spot every day over what sadly felt like an eternity ago.

He missed it.  
The soft pressure, the outline of Vince’s crooked nose pressing against his cheek, the smile that seared so wonderfully into his skin that he wished would leave a mark, not just a lip-gloss stain, but a brand. Something he could show off like a badge of pride.

Mentally, things may have been getting out of hand.

Howard tried to pull back and yet, Vince leaned into his touch, turning his face toward his palm, all the while maintaining eye contact.  
The light skim of lips along his lifeline just about knocked the wind out of him.

What the _hell_ was happening?

Hyper aware of every sensation, every breath, every muscle in his body he froze up like a deer in the headlights. Everything went still, except for his eyes which snapped to the watch that ticked rhythmically against his wrist.

5:23 pm

Shit.

He snatched his hand back and shot up on his feet.

“I-P-parents. It’s 5:20, My mom is going to be home any second-you’ve got to go.” His words came out in a jumbled tangle, but Vince seemed to get the message after a few seconds of confused staring.

He clambered onto his feet and the two rushed downstairs.  
Howard stuffed his bag into his arms and ushered Vince out the door in a hurry, jittery gaze dashing from left to right for any sign of adult life.

“Howard.”

“If she saw us together like this- she’d think we fought,“

“Howard.”

“You’d never be able to come over again-“

“Howard!”

“What?!”

“Stay up late tonight, okay?”

“What?-”

Vince cut in with their usual departing kiss on the cheek, shutting him up instantly.

“Just stay up, alright? Till 11 or so. I’m gonna go.” he rushed off the doorstep and cut through the grass to get on the pavement.  
“Don’t forget!”

Then he was gone again. Out of sight, but not so out of mind.  
Howard forced himself to quickly shut the door and run back upstairs with his things.

He unplugged the iron and returned it safely to its place in his parent’s bathroom. That’s when he felt the front door open and close beneath him.

He made his bed up properly, stuffing Vince’s jacket back under his pillow just in time before his mother walked in the room.

 

 

_MONDAY December 11 th 1989 _

_Mum went ballistic when she saw what Matthew did to me._

_I didn’t really have a clue how bad it was until I looked in the mirror. The tooth I lost wasn’t front and center but Vince was right about the black eye. It bruised up pretty bad._

_At least we match, not that my mother would know._

_I lied and said that I was standing up for some kid, not him. I didn’t want his name to get twisted up in this mess. I want my parents to like him._

_She acknowledged that I did a good thing, but swore that if I ever got involved in a situation like that again she’d ground me for a month._

_On the other hand, my dad was painfully proud, patting my back and cheering me on. ‘One step closer to becoming a real man’ he said. If getting the shit beaten out of me is part of being a man, I think I’ll pass._

Howard glanced up at the clock on his desk.

10:50 pm.

 

_I should be asleep right now. I’ve got school tomorrow, but Vince told me to stay up till 11._

_Today was weird._

_I held his hand twice. He crimped his hair and we sang again. I nearly burnt his skin off, but I think I made it up to him. I put these flowers I picked in his hair and he…_

Howard let the moment replay in his mind, as if he were watching from far away. Vince shifting in closer, leaning his cheek into his hand. That look on his face that could make cities melt and time stop.

 

_I don’t even know what he did.  He just looked at me and I couldn’t move._

_I don’t know what to do when he does stuff like that.  My imagination drifts too far and it scares the shit out of me._

_If he knew the things that went through my mind he’d leave me for sure._

_I don’t want to lose him._

He checked the clock again and saw that it was 10:59.  
Howard shut the journal buried it in the back of his school bag, afraid that suddenly Vince would appear and catch him.

Unsure what to do next, he sat on his bed and folded his hands in his lap. Mildred joined him, and he pet her for a bit to pass the time.

It was 11:10 and nothing happened.

He paced around his room in anticipation, but 11:30 came and still, nothing had happened.

He dropped back down into bed and stared at the ceiling.

Maybe he should just get up and change. Vince probably had forgotten whatever this whole 11 o’clock thing was about.

He wrapped the blanket around himself halfheartedly, eyes slowly shutting on their own accord. Things stayed that way until a cracking sound dissipated the silence.

Something scratched against his window.

Certain it was just his imagination, he stayed wound up under his covers facing the wall.

But then it happened again.

He turned over and stared at the glass, squinting in confusion.

Again.

 It became clear that someone was throwing pebbles.

He peeled out of bed and crept closer, flinching as another stone grazed the glass nosily.

Pulling the curtains completely out of the way, he stared down at a boy; one he quickly realized was Vince.

Howard undid the lock instantaneously and pushed the window open as quiet and steady as possible.

Unlike the morning, the night’s air was cold and poured into his room like a rolling mist. Suddenly it was freezing.  
  
He popped his head out, expression most likely bewildered and worried. Vince merely waved in response to his presence, dropping what Howard assumed to be a handful of rocks.

“What are you doing here?! You could have broken my window!” he hissed in what was hopefully a loud enough whisper for Vince to make out from the ground.

“Come out!” he called back in a hushed tone of his own.

“What!?” Howard squawked, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.

“I said come outside!”

“I know what you said!”

“Well then come out ya prick, I’m freezin’ out here!”

“Wh-But what if we get caught?!”

Vince shook his head, stuffing his probably freezing hands into his pockets.  Howard could make out the cut on his lip even from the distance they were at.  
 Vince stared back up at him.

“So?” The word rose up through the frosty air, somehow managing to hold its sincerity.

There was no confliction about it, he absolutely adored it when Vince did that.

Howard’s chest ached at the familiar phrase, his hands subconsciously gripping onto the window frame for support.

He glanced over his shoulder to the door, mentally navigating himself through the house as quietly as possible.  
 It was possible if he snuck out back and went through the gate.

He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

“Fine,” he whispered and Vince hopped around, doing a little victory dance.

He rolled his eyes and carefully shut the window, thinking to himself: ‘ _Idiot. Stupidly cute idiot.’_

 He rushed to his closet and hastily pulled out a random jumper, pulling it over his head before turning back to the bed.

The sleeve of Vince’s purple jacket hung loosely off the mattress. He hesitated before pulling it free, folding it neatly and tucking it under his arm.

After pulling on a pair of trainers, he hurried to the door and turned back to Mildred who watched in confusion. He squinted at her in the dark.

“ _Never speak of this to anyone_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is already on its way!! Hopefully, it will make up for this one lmAO... It might be a while because I've been cast in a show so I haven't been able to write as often, but pls let me know what u think either here or on tumblr @kingofmods!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am. So fucking sorry this took so long to upload guys.   
> I've already talked about this a couple times on my tumblr (@kingofmods) but I've actually had this chapter written since November. It's just been difficult finding somebody to edit it for me because my buddy who usually does it for me has been mega busy with college, same goes for my buddy who actually did it for me (@19_empty_vacancies on here GO READ HER STUFF its way better than mine ily Tazer g bless u). I'm hopefully gonna finish sometime soon because it's near the end of the school year for me but with that said I haven't started on the chapter after this one,, oops.  
> No worries though its all outlined, I just need to find the time to do it...  
> With that said here it IS...

Never had he been assigned a more tedious task than to take each step down the landing with extra care. In the night, his house was fit to be the set of a horror film. All the creaking floorboards and shadowy corners screamed for a slasher to complete the unsettling nerve of it all. With each jarring silhouette that poked the outskirts of his vision, he would pivot in place and steel himself, seldom prepared for another merciless scolding at the hands of his mother.

Howard adopted greater strides across the living room, praying that Vince hadn’t frozen to death in the time it took to tip-toe down the stairs. Victory twinkled in him like an intruder making his glorious escape when slipping out the back door with a soundless click.

The bitter air gnawed at his skin, yet he halted when hovering a hand over the fences lock.

Vince would be on the other side. Of course, he knew that already.

That was the whole purpose of the sneaking around but he still had to take a breath.

The wind fought against him, but he pushed through as to not waste another second. With a shudder, he tried to shut the gate with his foot in an attempt to look cool. Predictably, that failed, and he resorted to locking it up properly.

As typical as it were for Vince’s eyes to crinkle when snorting at this clumsiness, he still reddened, partially because of the embarrassment and from being in his presence again.

“Alright,” Howard sighed in an attempt to silence Vince’s giggling. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I thought you were jokin’ when you said you hadn’t snuck out before. You really haven’t, have you?”

Of course, he hadn’t. Leroy and Vince were practically his only friends. He found it flattering that Vince could ever imagine him doing such a thing; thinking he was cool enough to spend time with other people and have that rebellious edge.

“No sir,” he admits, “but that changes tonight.”

Vince nodded.

“I’m stealing your sneaking out virginity.”

“Well, I’m consenting to this so technically it’s not stealing, more so taking… but when you put it like that, it sounds wrong.”

“What we’re doin’ is wrong,” Vince reminded him ominously before cracking a smile. “But only if we get caught.”

That horrified him a bit. He stared over his shoulder at the house before asking nervously, “Where are we going exactly?”

“Park is where I was thinking; parks are way fun at night.”

“They’re the same during the night as they were in the day, they don’t transform when the moon comes out.”

“But the atmosphere does. You’ll see, you’ll love it.”

“Love?”

“Yeah, love.”

“You’ve set the bar pretty high just now, little man. You think you can still reach it?”

“’Course I can,” Vince challenged back. “I can reach anything, I’m an excellent climber. You’ll see when we get to the trees, I can make it to the top of any of them. I’m like a monkey.”

“You look like one too,” Howard just said it before worrying that the joke might be ill-timed, what with Vince’s new appearance. Thankfully, he only got shoved.

“Right, let’s get going, shall we?” Vince motioned towards the sidewalk and they slinked over to it, his boots making hollow clacks when transitioning onto cement.

Howard couldn’t help but freeze when taking in the shady contours of Vince’s face under the street lamp. He let out a faint shudder, still dazzled as ever.

Dawning a stripy jumper and ripped jeans, he looked a bit more punk than usual. Probably to fit tonight’s events. He had on his usual makeup: eyeliner, blush, something to make his lips pinker. He even managed to cover up the black eye and swollen nose, but sadly the cuts were less easily hidden. His hair fell curly around his jaw but stood more teased up than earlier, probably with the help of some spray. He managed to get it looking less like a 3rd grader cut it up and more like a new wave rock star. What’s even better was that he kept one of the daises tucked safely behind his ear.

 “You look… you put on make-up.” Howard stated outright. Vince just stared for a moment before pursing his lips.

“Did I?” he asked innocently.

“Yeah, you did.”

Vince nodded again, hands on his hips for a moment before his eyes flickered. “I’ve got something for you,” he mentioned casually before patting down his pockets, procuring something behind his back. “Guess what it is.”

Oh great.

Not this shit.

Howard hated guessing games, and Vince typically liked to let them last for longer than they should.

“C’mon can we get going? I don’t want my parents looking outside and seeing us--”

“Guess!”

“Keep your voice down!” Howard instinctively whisper-shouted back, clamping a hand over Vince’s mouth. Vince took one hand from behind his back and clutched onto the crook of his wrist, tearing him away with a huffy frown.

“I’m not telling you what it is ‘till you guess.”

Ignoring the advice, he instead attempted to circle around him and catch a glimpse. Vince swiveled with his every move, keeping his back blocked at all times. Howard groaned.

“We’re gonna be here all night, Vince.”

“Not if you just guess!”

“Is it a book?”

“No.”

“A ruler?”

“No.”

“Lampshade?”

“No?”

“Alien?”

“Howard.”

“A car?”

“A car? How am I gonna fit a car behind my back?”

“Look, you told me to guess--”

“God, you’re such a tit. Maybe you’re not as deserving of this gift as I thought.”

“Wait!”   
  
How could Vince get him attached to anything so easily? Howard wasn’t even sure what the ‘gift’ was yet and he wanted it. Just because if it came from Vince, it had to be good.  
   
“Just… what is it?”

Annoyed, Vince rolled his eyes (which appeared painfully orange under the tint of the street light) and pulled his hand out from behind his back.   
He extended out a fist full of uprooted flowers if you could call them that. They would actually be classified as weeds, not that Howard had the heart to tell him.  
  
Crumpled and half dead, they’d gone brown at the edges.

“Picked these for you.”

Howard silently stood for a moment. It’s stupidly adorable, like accepting one of Mildred’s dead rats or a drawing from a small child.

He took them carefully, not wanting to damage them any further and warily stuck them in the front pocket of his trousers. They poked out like a prize to be shown off in the empty streets of their quaint neighborhood.

“Why?” he wondered in admiration.

“For punching Matthew… What’s that?” Vince asked curiously, pointing to his coat under Howard’s arm.

Howard had almost forgotten he was holding on to it.

He held it out to him discreetly indecisive, not really wanting to give it back. The perfume scent had long worn off, but he still found odd comfort in feeling along the hand stitched patches and studded cuffs. It was just so unapologetically Vince.

There was concern for what would be thought of him for holding onto it for so long. When grabbing it upstairs, he didn’t necessarily think of the weight one silly jacket could hold. It could lead to things, questions, questions he couldn’t answer truthfully- lies.   
  
He didn’t want to lie.

Vince eyed it for a moment as if it were unrecognizable. Eventually, he smiled to himself and took it. After a ceremonious unfolding, he held it out under the light, observing its familiar decorations.

“Wow,” he whistled, shaking his head.

Howard wasn’t sure what to make of that reaction. He didn’t think about it much because Vince buried his nose into the fabric, taking a breath in like he’d been doing in secret for a while. It lit a fuse of panic in him as if Vince could have possibly known about his embarrassing habits and mock him for it.

He exhaled, steam vibrantly curling in the air about him before welcoming the coat back upon his shoulders, sliding his arms into the sleeves seamlessly. He started walking.

“Smells like you.”

The response shifted Howard’s being into park until he realized that his feet should be moving too. He caught up to him, mouth slightly agape.

He wanted to see for himself but stuffing his face against Vince’s shoulder would be awkward and overstepping some personal boundaries.

“What does that mean?” he questioned, sounding hopelessly lost.

Vince shrugs, leading them down a turn. “Dunno, just smells like you.”

“Well, what do I smell like?”

Vince doesn’t stop moving as he thinks it over.

“Wood polish,” He decides. “The kind they use on furniture and things, kinda lemony. Laundry too, you always smell like laundry.” 

Before Howard can contemplate the implications of this Vince asked, “What do I smell like?”

A stupid question frankly, as if it weren’t obvious in the way that he douses himself in fragrance. Howard squinted at him, raising a brow in amusement.

“What do you think you smell like?”

“Don’t be like that, I told you what you smelt like,”

“Well yeah but I don’t wear perfume, do I? It’s not intentional, my scent.”

Vince almost looked embarrassed, like he’d been caught in some act. He hadn’t meant to make him feel bad for it or anything, he loved the perfume, but Vince started sulking.

“Strawberries,” He managed to admit like he hadn’t secretly adored it with every bone in his body. Howard remained looking forward but could see Vince staring up at him from the corner of his eye. He smiled, and Howard tried not to as well. “Smells really good.”

“Thanks.”

 

The walk to the park is filled with forgetful banter; their usual conversations that run on farther than their legs could ever carry them. All on the surface was well, but Howard didn’t feel like himself.

Although typically opposed to most contact, his icy fingers itched to ransack some of Vince’s warmth; whether that be through friendly comical means like shoving his mitts under the other’s armpits or something serious like hand holding.

Holding hands shouldn’t be serious, but the thought of it is pressing, the mere concept cramming his throat. Earlier in the day, he’d been so confident; he’d done it out of comfort but now it would solely be for selfish reasons.

Instead, he settled on running a tongue over the depression in his gum where a tooth had been just that morning, only a small tang of blood still lingering.

   
He didn’t realize he’d started spacing out.

“…and then…” He heard Vince gossip among the muffled fuzz of earth’s audio, the whir of crickets overtaking his ears. Vince shamelessly kept close by, their shoulders bumping occasionally as they strolled.

He wondered what it was like to live free from the hyper thoughts that made you aware of every time your crush touches you.   
  
Oh great, the _c-word_.

Was he really going to put a name to it? Accept it and let his mind keep doing as it pleases? He had already been questioning if Vince’s distance was a challenge; who can get closer before it becomes noticeable?

No.

He needed to stop imposing his terrible one-sided thoughts on his best friend, an oblivious victim which his brain liked to play with and toss around like a ragdoll. He wanted to apologize for all the things he’d never voiced or done but contemplated.   
  
It felt creepy allowing himself to paint up scenarios Vince would never take part in. Even if Vince did like boys, he’d never like Howard.

But what about in the bathroom? When he laid his cheek into Howard’s palm?

The way he looked at him then was so…

All at once confused and disgusted with himself, he tried to keep up as they crossed the street and began their journey through the dewy field, wet grass squelching beneath them.

“Y’know what I mean?” Vince piped up above the chorus of insects and leaves crinkling.

“Yeah,” Howard lied absently.

Vince watched him for a moment and Howard tried not to give any attention back.

“You nervous?” He asked tentatively.

“Yes,” he stuttered from the cold. There’s relief in admitting it and knowing Vince would probably pin his response to fear.

Their shoulders brushed once more, and Howard could tell that Vince’s closeness wasn’t an accident. He tried not to lean into it too much, resisting the urge to throw himself into his arms altogether; desperate, cold and hopelessly bewitched by the adrenaline of being up to no good, especially with him. It was just a small touch, but it could knock more than just his teeth out.

“Howard?”

“Yeah?”

He keeps staring, eventually cracking a pointed smile.

“Last one to the swings is Matthew’s boyfriend.”

Just like that, Vince is off sprinting

He should have glided over with ease, taken his time in protest, said something like ‘I’m better than that Vince’ but a race was a challenge, and a challenge was jab he wasn’t going to pass up on and appear uninterested.

Was it flirtatious to hurl yourself across a field in a matter of seconds just for the sake of not being Matthew’s boyfriend? It didn’t matter either way because he scrambled after him.

The way he bent over and gasped for air when reaching the park wasn’t attractive in the slightest. Vince, on the other hand, had enough air in his system to yap like a hyena.

“I win!”

“What!” Howard took another deep breath to stay grounded. “That was definitely a tie,” another breath. “And you got a head start.”

“Excuses, excuses,” the smug tilt in his voice and simper about his lips when lifting himself onto a swing should have been irritating. It wasn’t.  
  
Howard distracted himself by checking that the flowers in his pocket were still safely secured. With air no longer stabbing his esophagus, he stood upright and gathered some composure.

“Can you give us a push?” Vince chirps to regain his attention. Howard shrugs. The request was already polite enough by Vince’s standards, but he was looking for a way he could challenge him back after that little stunt he pulled.

“I don’t know, can I?”

Vince rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Do I?”

“Ugh, would you?”

“Would I what?”

“Push me, ya shroom!”

“Well, what’s the magic word?”

Vince paused to think. “Buy-one-get-one-free?”

“That’s more than one word, Vince.”

He groans and kicks his legs out, deciding to swing himself. “Not when you put the little bridges between each word.”

“The hyphens?”

“Same difference.”

Howard stood back and watched Vince swing weakly in place before stepping in, hesitant to press his hands against his back. He tried to direct his thoughts towards other avenues when giving him a light shove, as if he might fall and shatter.

“You’re gonna need some more tutoring I reckon, have I taught you nothing?”

“Course you have! I listen!”

“Really?” He sounded doubtful but still helped push him.  
What was left of Vince’s hair swished back and forth with the momentum.

“Yeah! I before E,” he began.

“Except after C,” Howard picked up before they joined together again, Vince swinging in time to their original little tune. When it ended Howard discovered the force in his arms had vanished. It was either that or he found it difficult to touch him again.   
  
He stepped back, silence settling around the creaking of chains as Vince swung, something he hadn’t noticed when the air wasn’t as thick. Not that the tension was bad, but maybe that was worse.

“I know my stuff,” Vince continued before jumping mid-swing and stumbling on the landing. He gathered balance before striking a victorious pose as if he’d won the Olympics.

Howard smothered an amused smile. “Spell stationery.”

“S-T-A,” he started confidently, hands on his hips. “…Y…S-H-I-N-A-I-R-Y. Stationery.”

“The ‘tion’ in stationery isn’t spelt like ‘shin’,” Howard motions to his leg. “It’s ‘tion.’ T-I-O--”

“Yeah alright, I didn’t bring you out here so I could get another spelling lesson.” Vince waved him off before he could finish.

“Well, why did you bring me out here then?”

He scoffed as if it were obvious. “So you could live a little?”

“Your definition of living a little is a trip around the swings is it?”

“Obviously not, y’twat.”

“Well, that’s what we’re doing.”

“Look, would you rather be tucked in bed, bored and reading a book or something?”

“I’d actually be well asleep by now, thanks.”

Vince’s agitation was broken up by a smile just under the surface. “Get lost, you’ve really got a bedtime? Yikes.”

Howard tried not to be tricked into feeling ashamed.  
“Not ‘yikes’, getting 8 hours of sleep is healthy.”

“Yeah, everything’s gotta be a lecture with you doesn’t it?”

Before Howard could form another quick response, Vince strode away in another direction; hopping off the mulch and back into the grass, his posture telling that more was in store. Howard followed stubbornly.

Not only was everything a bit nerve-racking, but it bugged him to feel out of control. There was nothing worse than leaning back and riding the wave. That was more Vince’s style; standing around and looking pretty. Howard couldn’t stop shaking, no doubt only looking dreadful.

He much preferred taking the lead, eager to show off and make himself seem more impressive than he actually was. Although he’d given Vince a hard time, he actually seemed well impressive; all rebellious and cool in his jacket and boots. A wild spirit trotting through open fields, followed by what probably appeared to be a stalker.

They approached a gathering of old oaks and Vince stopped and leaned all his weight on one foot, the perfect image of rock ‘n’ roll.

“Pick any tree and I’ll climb it to the top,” he boasted, tongue dragging across his teeth as if to clean them.

Howard avoided watching by turning away and facing the plot. He didn’t see why Vince felt the need to constantly prove himself. Howard was already hypnotized enough to follow him around in the dead of night. Wasn’t that enough?

He thought back to the heartbreaking vision of Vince crying, “ _They think I do everything for attention_.”

 

“That one,” he decided sardonically, gesturing to the tallest tree.

“Course, my favorite,” Vince claimed flashily for his audience of one, sauntering into the tree’s shadow which seemed to drown everything. Moonlight filtered through the twisted, balding branches; a luminous patch shining across Vince’s eyes that made Howard question if he were in a film or if the universe just glimmered in the boy’s favor.

“Count when I start climbing alright?” Vince hooked his foot over a tall root and held onto the bark as if mounting a motorcycle.

“Go on then.”

On the signal, Vince launched himself up off the ground, already maneuvering through the oak’s twisted wings by the time Howard could count to 3. He moved swiftly and from the ground it appeared as though he was flying, keeping his promise of being an excellent climber. He scaled the whole thing in 12 seconds.   
  
Sat at the very top with an arm hooked around a sturdy branch, he craned forward to shout down at Howard, “Who’s little now?”

As a man made of nothing but worry, he was too concerned to be fascinated, irritated or both. He only awkwardly extended his arms out as if Vince would fall into them.

“Alright! Now come down please!”

Vince actually obeyed, lowering himself to the branch closest to the ground, kneeling carefully but staying put. “Why don’t you come up instead?” he suggested with a tone lacking taunt.

Howard laughed haughtily in an attempt to shoot down the comment.

Vince didn’t play along. “I’m serious!”

“Me?” he sputtered.

“Who else would I be talking to? The ants?”

He inched forward only slightly before deciding he would ultimately slip and fall. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You big baby, I’m not coming down till you come up.”

“Vince…”

“Look, I’ll help you! C’mere.”

Howard stared at him for a moment, then at the tree itself and then at the moon. He recalled its glowering eyes beating down on him and wondered if he were to take every risk presented to him would he instead be met with a look of contentment.

Was it sad to seek approval from a mystical dream version of an inanimate object orbiting earth millions of miles away?

Probably so.  
  
Vince wasn’t that high up though, maybe 6 feet or so, but it seemed like a lot to someone who isn’t particularly great at landing on his feet or anything physical in general. He reluctantly approached.

“Put your foot there, no your left.”

“This is my left.”

“Your other left… that’s it. Okay now your hand here,” Vince leaned over and smacked a protruding piece of bark which Howard proceeded to clutch onto.

“Good, now here,” he held out his hand.

Howard’s first instinct was to leap onto the opportunity and accept graciously, that was until the never-ending stream of guilt scalded him. He was even tempted to lean away, but Vince spoke.

“C’mon, we haven’t got all night.”

He sheepishly accepted the hand and tried not to enjoy it too much, heaving upward and finding a foothold. What came next, he was unsure of. He clung to the trunk, breathing uneasily with his eyes clenched shut.

“Did I fall yet? Am I dead?”

“Easy, you’re alright see!”

_Presumably_ , Vince’s hand leaned forward and grazed his shoulder, causing his eyes to snap open. He was too frightened by their distance from the earth to contemplate the hand looping its way back into his, pulling one of his arms free so he could sit normally and still stay secure.

It took him a few seconds to realize the continuous presence of warmth in his palm, upon which a whole new wave of anxiety formed, wringing him nauseous. The shaking never stops.

“I’m gonna throw up.”

“You’re so dramatic, it’s not that high up,”

‘That’s not why,’ he almost admitted but simply squeezed onto Vince’s hold, praying that he wasn’t too clammy or that the jittering would be mistaken for coldness or _something._  

Vince shook his head. “You did it, Howard! Look, we can get down now if you like.”

“Thatwouldbegreat” Howard huffed in a compressed breath before stiffly peering around. “Y-you uh… haven’t got a ladder, have you?”

“A ladder? I’m not the fire department,” Vince teased, tearing his hand away before jumping down, stumbling once more. He stood upright and looked to Howard, most likely expecting him to follow suit.

God, now what? Jump and die? Break a bone and have the ambulance show up? His mom would ground him forever and he’d never be able to see Vince again. Nope.

He couldn’t chance that.

“What are you waiting for?” Vince called eventually.

“Uh…” Shit. “A proper opening.”

Vince squinted in confusion. “You’re in an empty park. I think any time’s good to take the two-second leap, Howard.”

“Will it really take that long?”

“Two seconds is nothing! Get down already!”

“Not with you standin’ there! I could crush you!”

“Fine.” Vince took a side step, leaving an open stretch of grass for him. It looked like a million feet downward.

He kept staring for another minute until Vince grew impatient and walked over, holding his arms out as if prepared to catch a child. 

“C’mon.”

“But what if--”

“Howard just trust me okay? You’re gonna be fine. I’ll catch you.”

“Your arms are too small to catch me, you’re like a munchkin compared to my size. Your arms will snap.”

“I’m the current reigning arm wrestling champion of Camden for your information! I beat out this old lady with the arms of a silver-back gorilla!”

“Really?”

“No, I lied. But just jump okay?”

Holding his breath, Howard shifted into a kneeling position, preparing by building himself up. What’s a small jump to a giant? He could do it! He was a rebel, he was an outlaw of the night, sneaking off to places he shouldn’t be at ungodly hours! He could totally make this jump.

Before he could second-guess anything, his foot slipped on the bark and he tumbled forward, ungracefully plummeting down with only Vince to break his fall. They both clattered to the dirt, Howard squashing the air from Vince’s lungs.

“Shit!” Vince wheezed as Howard weakly lifted himself off his chest.

He blinked and let the familiar position soak in. A memory of late November reeled Howard’s mind back to his bedroom, where Vince laid under him surrounded by a mess of broken forts, the faint scratch of a record ending leaving them in silence.

He recalled his face bursting with hot pinpricks. He was so clueless then. The quiet reminded him that he should probably say something.

“Oh god… Are you alright? I-I lost balance and--”

He couldn’t finish his nattering before Vince forcefully rolled him over. Suddenly everything flipped, and Howard had his back to the ground, at a loss for air with Vince above him.

“I could have caught you if you warned me first, prick.”

He stayed quiet for a second longer than he should have, captivated by the wayward strands of Vince’s hair and how they stuck out. The moon backlighting them in an impish halo.  
  
So much more certain of the odd pressure on his lungs in comparison to the first time around, he tried to push past all faintness and cook up a fashionable comeback.

“Right. I could beat you in an arm wrestle any day, sir.”

“You’ve got the arm strength of a toddler, Howard.”

“Nope. I’m the current reigning arm wrestling champ of Leeds for your information.”

Vince tried to keep a stern face but the corner of his lip twitched, dimpling his scarred cheek. It made Howard’s stomach swirl unhelpfully.

As if sensing this, Vince lifted himself slightly and flopped onto the ground next to him. Howard took the opportunity to catch his breath before Vince curled on his side, facing him.

“Howard?”

He hesitantly turned to him and found that once more, a sea of light bathed the other; this time his entire face.

Even after all that running around, the flower had stayed tucked behind Vince’s ear.

His blonde streaks shimmered like golden rivers, the mascara he wore made his eyes appear silver and acid washed, elvish even. He found it difficult to speak and Vince continued.

“What should we call them? The funny little songs?”

Howard’s stare remained immobile, perilously enchanted when watching his own hand hover delicately over Vince’s wavy hair, mind wandering off. He prudently ran his fingers through its cropped length, watching it fall delicately back into place. “Crimp, I think,” he said for the sake of saying something.

“Crimped?”

“Not past tense. A _crimp_ , crimping.”

“Like the hairstyle? Why?”

“Why not?” He tried to sound sure of himself, like there was some deeper reasoning, like he wasn’t distracted by…

His hand stiffened in Vince’s hair and he realized.

His eyes snapped back to Vince’s face to try and gage his expression, hoping somehow, he hadn’t noticed what he was just doing.

But he did notice.

Seeing that Howard stopped, Vince’s eyes flickered up, their gaze locking.

Christ, he fucked up.

Oh god.

He mentally began preparing a speech, a plea for forgiveness. ‘It wasn’t me it was the wind, okay I know it wasn’t the wind but... oh my god I’m sorry--’

“I’m sorry,” he croaked upon realizing he hadn’t pulled away yet. He tried to reel back but didn’t manage to get far before Vince grabbed his wrist.

“Wait.”

He blinked in confusion. “What?”

Vince slowly pulled Howard’s hand closer to his face, easing it back into his hair. The touch set his nerves aflame.

“Just… wait,” Vince said carefully.

He looked like he did earlier with his cheek in Howard’s hand, that same look that owned everything, that _changed_ everything since the first day he came over to Howard’s house. He only understood how close Vince truly was when those silver eyes fluttered shut and a not so fleeting kiss pressed to his lips rather than his cheek.

Howard waited for the thunderous crack of his alarm clock to split the moment. He blinked a couple times, waiting for his eyes to peel open, the taste of morning breath fresh on his tongue. He’d be fully clothed and sat at his desk, drooling across his journal after waiting for Vince to appear all night.

But a moment passed, and he was still in the park, staring at long eyelashes, the feeling of Vince’s hands cradling the sides of his face, lip gloss smudging against his mouth. The overpowering aroma of strawberries making his heart careen to his stomach.   
  
It was happening.

It was happening _,_ and he was just lying there, shocked, not giving anything back because he didn’t know how. Sure, he had imagined this fate countless times, but as mentioned previously, he knew it was a fantasy too kind to truly exist.

Why would Vince ever really like a boy like Howard?   
He shouldn’t have ever felt so entitled to his attention like he _deserved_ it or something.

Why would Vince ever like a boy? Because Howard did, and he tricked him into it too? The guilt quickly stole all traces of warmth from him, his face draining white.

This was all Howards fault. He never meant to drag Vince down with him.

Instinctively he pushed Vince back, pulling away, his chest throbbing uncontrollably. He didn’t think of how it must have come off until seeing the hurt in his expression, the redness in his cheeks, the embarrassment.

Vince promptly staggered to his feet with minimal eye contact. “Sorry, I didn’t… I… sorry,” his voice wavered around an apology and he turned, probably to walk home.

Howard’s stomach lurched in horror and he hastily snatched onto Vince’s wrist. “Wait! Oh my god, what am I doing? I… I should say sorry, I--”

Vince tried to tug away, clearly not looking to be made a fool any further.

“No Howard, I shouldn’t have…We can forget it happened, okay? It’s fine,” but his tone didn’t sound ‘fine’ and he kept trying to pull away.

“No!” he pleaded “I don’t want to forget, I don’t- please just… It’s just…”

What the hell came next? He’d never dreamt this far before.

How was he to explain everything he felt without puking it all out and scaring Vince away forever? Without losing his only friend?

“I’m nervous.” Was all he could manage to admit. He prayed that was enough. Vince’s hurt expression remained tight a few seconds longer.

“Why?”

“Because of you! I mean… this. This is all so… I’ve never done this before.”  

“Well, I haven’t either! I don’t go around kissing boys like Matthew says okay?” he snapped heatedly.

“I know you don’t! I just… Well, you’ve kissed people before!”

“ _So_?”

“So, I haven’t alright? I’m nervous! It’s that simple, Vince.”

He tried to lock himself up from the oncoming storm of ridicule he was sure to endure, but Vince’s aggravated expression only diminished when bending down at Howard’s side.

“…It’s just me, Howard,” he reminded him.

He almost wanted to laugh. _Just Vince_. As if that were any less intimidating.

Sure, he was his best friend, but that only made everything harder. It was still hard to even accept that this scenario was actually happening.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mentioned, just in case it wasn’t obvious enough.

“That’s alright,” Vince reasoned. “Here…”

He dropped from his crouched position, forward on his knees and shuffled closer; too close.  Howard was burning up by the time he took his hand again, redirecting it back into his hair.

Vince proceeded to mold his position as one would with a doll. Howard followed along, letting him take his other hand and direct it to his waist. Howard hesitated to touch it, almost pulling away altogether but Vince’s hand pressed his firmly into place, reminding him it was okay.

“This goes here,” he informs and Howard stares at the touch, his mind blanking from the fluttering sensation.

Vince whistles, snapping his attention back to his face. “Eyes up here Howard,” he grins.

“Sorry,” he chokes.

“Don’t be, close your eyes.”

Howard obeys quietly and tries not to suffocate when Vince’s hands slide onto his shoulders.

“Now…”

There is a moment of utter concentration, Howard trying to solidify that his insides wouldn’t come up on contact, which they almost do.

Vince’s lips are on his again and he can feel the cut from where they had been busted. He pictured the swing Matthew must have taken to cause a blister like that and it only makes him try harder, because this time he _was_ trying.  It makes Vince hum briefly and tilt his face at a new angle.

Howard wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing still.   
He just tried to copy Vince, because whatever he was doing felt good. Better than good really, amazing was more like it.

No dream could have prepped him and he tried to make it last. Tried to memorize all the shapes and emotions before they came to an end, Vince pulling away first.

He could only will himself to open one eye at first, still frightened that he’d be greeted by his bedroom ceiling. Thankfully, Vince was still there.

Upon opening both eyes completely, he realized that Vince was looking down at him. Somehow, he managed to make it into his lap. Howard would have lost it then if it weren’t for the memory of that dreadful nightmare. He keeps his hand secure around Vince’s waist as if somehow someplace, the roles had switched, and Matthew was watching the two with dread.

“That wasn’t too difficult now was it?”

“I-wh-uhm,” He stammered. “Did I uhh… Did I? Er- Was that… okay?”

Vince snickered at his lousy attempt to speak. At first, Howard felt deeply offended.

“S’alright,” he assured him, “You’ll get better with practice.”

Instead of taking the comment personally he wondered. What did that mean? That it’ll happen again?

The thought kicked him in the gut and he just had to cough. Bursting into a fit of hacking that made Vince crawl off, more snickering ensuing. Eventually, he was able to resettle and clear his throat, but the moment already passed and Vince suddenly slapped his chest to signify that.

“Tag!” he blurted out before darting off back toward the playground. He made it there just as quickly as he had before, and Howard scrambled to stand.

 “You can’t play tag with two people, Vince!” He called after him bitterly, slightly afraid. What did it mean for Vince to do that?

Did he really want to? Or did he do it just to see how it felt? To be with a boy?

After all that he couldn’t doubt he could be curious.

Was Howard an experiment?

How could he possibly think of anything else all night? Scratch that, for the rest of his life.

“Stop being a buzzkill and chase me!”

Howard begrudgingly ran after him, diving from all angles around the playground. He slipped a few times but finally maintained tagging him once.

He doesn’t run nearly as long before Vince tackled him like an ape, latching onto him and shouting, “Tag! I’ve got you!”

If he were to push Vince away then, it wouldn’t have been as gutting as before, in the middle of that kiss. He still didn’t want to risk anything and instead mirrored Vince’s previous actions, rolling him over so that he was on the floor trapped between his legs.

He reminisced in the odd spark of confidence he had when Vince had been in the same spot long before and shot his hands to his sides, tickling him as if it were muscle memory.

Vince screamed with laughter, squirming and taking it for a bit, his whole face glowing red until his eyes watered and suddenly--

Howard cried and slung himself to the ground at Vince’s side, shriveling up with a hand shielding his crotch.

Vince kneed him straight in the balls.

“I couldn’t breathe!” he defended, standing up victoriously and watching Howard twist around in the mulch.

“Well you didn’t have to knock me in the berries, did you?” he hissed back sensitively.

“Sorry,” Vince apologized earnestly, but Howard saw past it, the smugness strong on that close-lipped smile.

“You’ll pay for this,” he promised after managing to at least take a knee.

“Oh, will I?”

“Yeah, you will.”

“How much?”

“We’ll see, because I’m not talking about currency, no sir. You’re payin’ in pain little man,” he gets up slowly, like an old man with a bad back. He was exhausted.

“Pain?” he chuckles.

“That’s right. When you least expect it. The pain post will arrive.”

“‘The pain post’? That’s not even real Howard.”

“Since when did you start living in a fact-based world?” Howard’s weariness must have been apparent enough to make Vince take one last look around.

“It’s gettin’ pretty late.”

“Like that means anything to you,” he jeers “You’re like a bat, aren’t you? You hang from trees all night eating fruits and things.”

“Well yeah, but you’re tired, aren’t you?”

“A little,” he confessed before taking a glimpse around and growing curious. “Where do you live?”

“Why do you care?” Vince asked brows furrowed in confusion.

Wasn’t it obvious?   
  
The guy goes missing for a weekend when in reality he was cooped up in the same neighborhood with Howard thinking he’d vanished from the face of the earth. Not to sound creepy but he wanted to know how to get there, just in case.

“I… I wanna walk you home,” he didn’t sound like he was lying because he wasn’t.  
   
“Let’s just walk to yours okay?” Vince tried to protest.

“We’re already closer to yours.”

“How do you know that?”

“You said you cut through here earlier didn’t you?”

Vince tugged at the bracelets which returned to his wrists. “I don’t know, Howard.”

“C’mon, let me do this for you,” he pressed.

Vince’s cheeks darkened at the response, but he kept his eyes deterred. “Alright,” he gives in.

They stay standing for a moment and Howard quickly dissects the state of things, wracking his brain for a way to keep things stirring.

Their stance evoked a memory of lunch. Him taking Vince to the nurse’s office. He mimicked the illusion and jutted his arm out for him to take.

“Lead the way.”

Vince gleefully clasped on to him and they paraded through the field, the sound of insects escorting them into the streets.

They roamed past houses wide and thin, tall and short, big and small, all the while Howard anticipated which might be the place Vince had been staying in all this time.

He realized he most likely hadn’t seen it before when crossing onto an unfamiliar road. Vince was in the middle of chatting when he suddenly halted in someone’s driveway.

“Here,” he announced quietly.

Howard casted eyes on it with a level of suspense only to be greeted by a smaller sunnier looking home. Built of yellow bricks with a lawn in desperate need of a trim, the stone foundation also possessed its own overgrown, parasitic greenery that enveloped a front window and hung from the roof.

It could almost be considered slightly eerie, like a craft crack house, but overall it appeared merry.

“Not as big as yours, that’s for sure,” Vince mentioned awkwardly in response to Howard’s quietness.

“I like it,” he comforted.

“Whatever,” Vince chuckled, stepping into the tall grass and walking toward the slightly seedier side of the house. Howard waddled after him to a window by the fence which had been left propped. Presumably it led to Vince’s room.

The thought of it intrigued him and he tried to squint through the dark glass and make out what laid within. Vince interrupted his little expedition by cracking it open and crawling inside. He turned to Howard with an uncontainable smile, one that read ‘we totally just did that’.

Howard returned it giddily, unable to stand still.

“We should do this more if you’re up for more rule breaking, man of action,” Vince suggested, leaning out slightly and plucking a stray piece of mulch caught in Howard’s curls.

Howard enjoyed that title, _Man of action_.

“Always,” he claimed dramatically, and Vince stifled a giggle. The two weren’t sure what to do next but couldn’t bare saying goodbye just yet.

“…Howard… Can I sleep over? Not tonight, but… soon?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

Vince groaned. “May I?”

“How soon?”

“Soon, soon.”

“Can I get a day?”

“Friday?”

Howard really had no clue if his parents had anything going on that day, but it seemed like enough time to get the house ready and to ease the idea in during dinner.

But this was big.

Not only would it be the second time Vince would officially come over to his house. But he would be staying there, and he’d wake up there too, something he was only ever used to doing with relatives.

Vince wanted to though, and how could he possibly deny him anything anymore after all that he’s done for Howard tonight. He got to live a little, which was more than he’s ever done.  

“Okay… Okay.” he agrees anxiously.

“Promise?”

“I can’t do that, I have to ask first.”

“Just promise me we’ll do this,” he whined.

“Fine. I promise.”

Vince held back a massive grin when stretching forward and stealing another kiss on the lips. It took Howard a second to realize what was happening again, too stunned to move. He tried to jump in but Vince pulled away all too quickly and it was over. He carelessly slipped the jacket off from his shoulders and shoved it back into Howard’s arms.

“To be continued,” he whispered, a final wink his gesture of departure and just like that, the window was shut.

He melted into the dark surrounding and Howard lingered at the window for a few seconds longer, only because he couldn’t think up what to do next.

He clutched onto the jacket and let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Upon inhaling, the scent of strawberries remained with him.

Heading home would probably be a good start.

He put great effort into moving one foot in front of the other and even managed to make it back out to the drive.

He noticed on the way back that the mailbox was painted, probably by Vince, all streaky and odd in the same way he sketched. It appeared to be coated over several times.

He pressed his palm over a colorful handprint, soaking up the freezing frostiness of the metal.  It had grown even colder out, the winds knocking his fringe back from his forehead, but he moved along, retracing his steps back to a recognizable street, one that trailed back to his own.

That was probably the path Vince took every day after school.

Howard wandered down it, dragging the aftershock of the night’s events with him.  When turning onto his road he could picture the moon sharing his same giddy grin. It reminded him of another universe, the one from his nightmares… and yet everything seemed significantly dreamlike.

He crept back inside and made sure everything was locked up before returning to his room. He popped his ‘flowers’ in the back of a hardcover book so they could press flat and tape into his journal for keeping.  
He changed and Mildred, probably having smelt Vince on his clothes, curled up on them in his laundry basket.

Howard was satisfied with the jacket, its original essence restored.

He finally laid down for bed but couldn’t stop thinking about Friday, when Vince would still be there with him.

Even when he managed to slip from reality, he dreamt of Vince in all yellow, of them sharing a bed of ivy. His hair was long again, and he had countless flowers ornamenting its waves. They were crimping because it was better than some handshake, better than anything.

They ended on a kiss but it was empty. What he really craved was Friday.   
Because how could he settle on dreaming when he had finally felt the real thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for being so patient seriously <3 <3 <3,, I hope it wasn't disappointing or underwhelming  
> Updates will continue here https://kingofmods.tumblr.com/tagged/alone-together-fic !


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